Cornell University Library 
 G 463.F84 
 
 In foreign lands :some sketches of tm^^^ 
 
 3 1924 023 256 872 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tiiis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924023256872 
 
IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 SOME SKETCHES OF TRAVEL IN 
 ASIA, AFRICA, AND OCEANIA 
 
 By 
 
 J. NELSON ERASER, M.A. 
 
 (of the INDIAN EDUCATION SERVICE) 
 
 LONDON 
 
 JOHN OUSELEY LIMITED 
 
 FLEET LANE, FARRINGDON STREET, E.C. 
 
CONTENTS 
 Relating to China and the Chinese 
 
 Caravans from China 25 
 
 Elephants used by Chinese 63 
 
 Chinese miners 71 
 
 Early troubles with Chinese 73 
 
 Union of Burmese and Chinese; Character- 
 istics of the Chinese in Burmah .... 81 
 
 Buddliism. springs froD) Confucianism ... 85 
 
 Burmese are compared to Chinese 93 
 
 Chinese thrift 163 
 
 Chinese belief regarding sleep 192 
 
 Chinese Invasion 344 
 
 Chinese in Sydney , . . , 345 
 
 Chinese in New Zealand 385 
 
 Chinese in Tahiti 422 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 I. KASHMIR . 
 
 1. 
 
 II. 
 
 <^.r^vJ 1 1. 1*1. 1. L-v . . , 
 
 OOTACAMUND, THE TODAS AND S 
 
 J. 
 
 OME 
 
 
 REFLECTIONS . 
 
 40 
 
 III. 
 
 MADRAS AND BURMA 
 
 55 
 
 IV. 
 
 RAJPUTANA .... 
 
 99 
 
 V. 
 
 NORTHERN INDIA . 
 
 133 
 
 VI. 
 
 A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 
 
 . 166 
 
 VII. 
 
 AUSTRALIA .... 
 
 392 
 
 VIII. 
 
 NEW ZEALAND 
 
 349 
 
 IX. 
 
 SOUTH SEA ISLANDS 
 
 • 387 
 
IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 KASHMIR 
 
 The Himalaya Mountains, we all know, run from north- 
 west to south-east, in great parallel folds; between the, 
 first two of these folds lies the valley of Kashmir. The 
 Pir Panjal range divides it from the Punjab, and the 
 traveller approaching from the south comes into touch 
 with Kashmir when he gets past Lahore and ~sees the 
 snowy summits of the Pir Panjal rising across the plain. 
 It is not easy to cross them, certainly not in April, and 
 the general plan nowadays is to go north as far as Rawal 
 Pindi, and enter Kashmir by the Jhelum Valley. The 
 road is long and tedious^two hundred miles long — and 
 the scenery most of the way is dull. There is some 
 interest in the cuttings, which are the deepest on any 
 road in India. The valley is extremely narrow, and the 
 mountains are formed of conglomerate rock, a sort of 
 gravel pudding with large boulders in it. Thus, the side 
 of the road is a wall, sometimes a hundred feet high, 
 with stones large and small sticking out everywhere and 
 threatening to tumble down. This they occasionally do, 
 especially in the spring, when the snow is melting ; land- 
 slips are also common, bridges disappear, and the early 
 traveller is saved from brooding over the tedium of the 
 way. 
 
 I A 
 
2 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 He arrives in Kashmir at Baramula, and makes at 
 once for his objective. As every taste suits itself, so it 
 may be that he is a sportsman, with a long march still 
 before him; or a society man, with his eye on garden- 
 parties ; or a lounger, needing nothing but a boat-house ; 
 or finally, like tayself , a tourist i'n search of experiences. 
 In this last case he may do what I did — he can do 
 nothing better — take his tents and his coolies and his 
 staff in his hand and march off to the Lolab Valley. 
 
 For the shape of Kashmir is such that the bottom of 
 the chief valley is a flat plain, while the mountains 
 which encircle it are full of winding glens. These are the 
 beauties of Kashmir. By each of them you may ascend 
 the mountain chains; if you persevere you may 
 cross them and leave Kashmir behind you ; or you may 
 ascend one of them and cross thg spur of the mountains 
 and return to Kashmir by the next. You may do this 
 many times before you have seen all the valleys of the 
 country, and they are all worth seeing; but within the 
 space of one vacation you must make a choice. Now 
 Kashmir has been fully explored, and there are many 
 guide books; but they all agree that the Lolab, the 
 Sind and the Lidar Valley are first among their 
 peers. So I started with the Lolab Valley, which is 
 nearest to Baramula. 
 
 Cockburn's agency (whom I can recommend) had 
 arranged for tents and stores to await me, together with 
 a head man, Azad Bat, and a cook. They made their 
 salaams at the Dak-bungalow, shivering like all the 
 rest of the world, for there had been three days rain, 
 and the weather was chilly. It cleared up next day; 
 we hailed the sun with joy, and, tramping over the 
 Jhelum, dived into the hills. 
 
KASHMIR 3 
 
 Now I had said to myself many times, " I will not 
 be victimised by Kashmir ; I will not expect anything 
 one way or another; I will wait and see what the place 
 is like." And when I got there, on that very wet day 
 at Baramula, with nothing visible but pools and pollard 
 willows, and mist and clouds, I said " Even now it is- 
 too early to judge." But two or three hours after I 
 left Baramula, I had permitted a verdict to present 
 itself, and by the evening it was the verdict of all my 
 five senses ratified by that presiding spirit, the manas, 
 which surveys and co-ordinates their reports. I never 
 questioned this verdict all the time I was in Kashmir, 
 and at this moment I find I have nothing to do but 
 choose emphatic language, and record it. 
 
 There are three types of Kashmir scenery, that of 
 the valley, the lower hills, and the snows. That of the 
 valley is not without its own charms, and they are such 
 as the Anglo-Indian is willing to enjoy. There are 
 fields of grass enamelled with flowers, brooks and 
 pools, and groves of mighty trees. First among these 
 is the great chenar,. that no tree in the world excels for 
 spreading majesty and shade. Give it light and air, 
 rich soil, and water, which it loves, and a single chenar 
 will fill the landscape. Ten men shall not clasp its 
 trunk, and a hundred herons shall lodge within its 
 boughs unseen. Beneath it a company of soldiers may 
 encamp, and no ray of sunlight shall fall on them from 
 morn to eve. It lives from generation to generation ; 
 the chenars that burgeon in the spring to-day were 
 planted by the Great Moghul. They are chief among 
 the arboreal monarchs of the valley, not even the elms 
 of Bawan match them, nor those poplars that skirt the 
 Srinagar Road, and impi;ison the sky for sixteen miles. 
 
4 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 It is the trees that ennoble the Kashmir Valley, but 
 I do not forget the great fen that stretches northwards 
 of Srjnagar. Let the mountain and the forest boast 
 themselves as they will; there is al charm they do not 
 possess ; the charm of the solitary fen. I have Tennyson 
 with me: 
 
 " Some blue peaks in the distance rose 
 And white against the cold-white sky 
 Shone out their crowning snows. 
 One willow over the river wept, 
 And shook the wave as the wind did sigh ; 
 Above in the wind was the swallow, 
 Chasing itself at its own wild will, 
 And far through the marish green and still 
 The tangled water courses slept 
 Shot over with purple and green and yellow." 
 
 Where did he see it? In his mind's eye, I suppose; 
 not in Lincolnshire certainly. But he might have seen 
 it in Kashmir, had he been with me one day there, 
 from Nandihal to Gunderbal. And when he wrote his 
 " Recollections of the Arabian Nights," had he ever 
 in the spirit visited the Dal Lake, where that same 
 Great Mogliul made himself, like Haroun Al-raschid, 
 palaces and pleasure gardens? All of them now swept 
 by decay's effacing fingers, but eloquent of their golden 
 prime! 
 
 Whatever be the visitor's interest in Kashmir, he 
 should spend st few hours in the Dal Lake and its 
 gardens, and a few hours on the river elsewhere will 
 not be amiss. There is a special point of view from the 
 water's level; he should not fail to take it in. But I 
 think in Kashmir it is less interesting than elsewhere, 
 certainly between Srinagar and Islamabad, where the 
 river flows between high artificial banks. And in any 
 case there is not much to be seen from the house-boat. 
 
KASHMIR 5 
 
 except the muddy Jhelum swirling past; the beauties 
 of Kashmir are accessible only to the pedestrian. Let 
 us return then to the Lolab Valley. 
 
 The mountains that surround it are comparatively 
 low, though in April there is plenty of snow about. At 
 points you have views of the higher ranges, indeed my 
 first day from Baramula was the only time I saw Nanga 
 Parbat. The weather was clear after the rain, I was 
 well placed, and had all the Himalaya to admire, pre- 
 eminent in the distance being the silver crest of the 
 great summit. But the Lolab is a sylvan glen that 
 rises slowly from the plain. It is strewn with a great 
 variety of little heights and knolls ; sometimes you pass 
 a defile, sometimes you survey a plain. The forest is 
 most beautiful. What the chenar tree is in the valley, 
 the deodar is on the mountain side. Pictures have 
 made us familiar with it ; yet only the sight of it reveals 
 its grandeur. In the Lolab Valley there are still forests 
 on which no woodman has laid his hand, where the 
 veterans of centuries look down on the seedlings, and 
 giant trunks slowly mouldering to earth show the wheel 
 of nature full circle in its revolution. Ascending and 
 descending amid these forests every sort of view pre- 
 sents itself, long vistas between the columns, and 
 glimpses of the sky and snow. The air is filled with 
 aromatic fragrance, and lest any sense should complain 
 of neglect, the ears are occupied with the quaint amus- 
 ing noises of the birds. So I went on, rising day by 
 day, till I crossed a higher ridge and looked down 
 on the Woolar Lake. To this I descended, and taking 
 a kisti with seven paddlers crossed to the opposite 
 shore. The lake was in a good humour. As the boatmen 
 know, it is easily provoked to anger, and you should 
 
6 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 consult the omens before you start. M^ny hands make 
 light labour; in one hour and a half I was landed on 
 the opposite side and ready to start from Bandipur up 
 Erin Nala. 
 
 Here I went a little higher, and it is time to speak of 
 the higher scenery of Kashmir. Nothing in it struck 
 me so much as the size and bold conformation of the 
 rocks. The conglomerate of the lower regions gives 
 place to good honest stone. What more could the eye 
 desire in the way of mountains? Cliff rose above cliff, 
 that neither Pelion nor Ossa could have equalled, till 
 one could only laugh at the sight of" them, laughing 
 perhaps at the innocence which had nevei" dreamed of 
 such things. One might have stowed the Matterhorn 
 in a corner of the Sind Valley, and Mr Whymper 
 would not have noticed it. Deodars and pines 
 flourished everywhere, disposed in fringes and clumps, 
 according to the ground, or marshalled in spreading 
 forests. There was plenty of snow, not eternal snow 
 nor quite so radiant as that snow is, but deep and 
 lustrous, and yet unvanquished by the summer sun. At 
 short intervals fresh snow kept falling on the heights, 
 till it veiled the deodars once more in white, while 
 further below winter was slowly retreating. 
 
 In the Sind Valley there is a high upland meadow, 
 Sonamarg (which was under snow when I went there) 
 leadmg to the Zojila Pass. To the east of this valley 
 there is a glen leading to the cave of Amarnath. I 
 remember it as the climax of all that I saw in Kashmir. 
 The strata of the rocks rose and fell in wild contortions, 
 the pines were rooted in incredible places, and the 
 masses of snow were stupendous. Great avalanches 
 had fallen across the glen, perfect mountains in them- 
 
KASHMIR 7 
 
 selves, blocking all the communications. Here lay my 
 path to Amarnath, if I meant to go there. The design 
 was not practicable and reluctantly I gave it up. So, 
 too, I had to give up Gurgurbal Lake, and the only 
 consolation is that if ever I return to Kashmir later in 
 the year there will still be something new to see. 
 
 However, I did get up the Zojila Pass. By this one 
 escapes from Kashmir into the high land of Baltistan, 
 which is no longer India but Central Asia. This 
 indeed is why I went there, I wanted just for- the sake 
 of the thing to say I had been in Central Asia. So 
 early one morning, about three o'clock, I sallied forth 
 with Azad Bat and struggled up the ravine of the 
 Zojila. It was full of snow ; the road along the hill-side 
 was not yet open, and all travellers went straight up 
 the ravine. On both sides of them were perpendicular 
 cliffs ; beneath their feet unseen flowed the river. There 
 was no difficulty, the winter storms were over, and at 
 that hour there was no chance of avalanches. These 
 came on later in the day, and if we had been inclined 
 to chance them, there was an ominous stake in the snow 
 to caution us, which marked the spot where five coolies 
 lay buried. On the Kashmir side the ascent was 
 steep; beyond, there was a broader valley and a very 
 gradual fall. I went as far as Machihoee, an4 stayed at 
 night in the bungalow. The weather was intensely cold, 
 nothing to what it had been, but trying enough by con- 
 trast with Bombay. I walked about and viewed the 
 scene, and made the reflections I intended to make. 
 " Here," I said, " I am no longer in Hindustan. 
 Beyond that crest of the Zojila the genius of Hinduism 
 has not advanced its flag. Here neither has Parasurama 
 lifted his axe, nor Krishna piped to the enamoured 
 
8 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 Gopis. Below in yonder cave sits Mahadeo throned in 
 ice. Thenceforward to Kahya Kumari all is his; not 
 a corner of the land but holds a shrine of him or his 
 compeers. And truly if patient toil gives any claim to 
 possession, his followers have won it him. Who can 
 count the miles that pilgrims have travelled, reconnoitr- 
 ing and annexing territories for the Hindu faith ? But 
 all within the sacred limits of Bharatvarsha. And long, 
 long ago, in the days when Panini with the same in- 
 quisitive care wrote his Grammar, and Vatsayana the 
 Kamashastra." 
 
 To stimulate these reflections I was provided with a 
 contrast, in the shape of a train of Hajis returning to 
 Yarkund. One year they had been away ; and now they 
 were nearly home again. They were mostly men, but I 
 saw two women among them. They rode on stout little 
 ponies, that picked their way unerringly through the 
 streams and across the snow slopes. Tall, stalwart men 
 they were, in sheep-skin coats and caps; their high 
 cheek bones and oblique eyes presented the classic type 
 of Asia. I found an interpreter and had a little talk 
 with them. They reported a prosperous joqrney; no 
 trouble from plague regulations in Bombay, only six 
 of them died on the steamer, they had kissed the Kaaba 
 and seen the beatific vision. One of their ponies fell 
 lame going up the Zojila; it was clear that his travelling, 
 days were over. Accordingly they sanctified his carcass 
 by cutting his throat, as the Law prescribes, then they 
 flayed him and dissected him and gobbled him up. 
 His shoes they took off, for some other pony; his skin 
 they dried, and not a morsel did they leave for the dis- 
 appointed crows. I watched the man nearest me coiling 
 his share of entrails in a pot; neatly he packed it with 
 
KASHMIR 9 
 
 snow, lit a fire, and sat down to watch it stewing. ' A 
 furious snowstorm came whirling up the pass, but the 
 Tartars only crouched a little closer over their cooking. 
 All kinds of weather were alike to them, and I dare say 
 they felt quite jolly going over the Karakoram Pass. 
 But the fact is human nature soon grows hard leading 
 an outdoor life and associating with animals. Books of 
 all kinds become unintelligible ; your principal topic is 
 your belly. and how to fill it, and you cease to trouble 
 about " dirt." You enter houses with suspicion and 
 reluctance, and I can understand how it is that the 
 Tartars erect their tents inside the room of inns when 
 they have to use them. 
 
 However, there remains to be finished off the subject 
 of Kashmir scenery. I have said nothing yet about 
 the flowers. They abound in the greatest plenty and 
 variety. There is hardly an old ^nglish friend that 
 does not meet one; the eye-bright and pimpernel 
 raise an inquiring glance and ask if you have forgotten 
 them; buttercups and dandelions recall the decorated 
 fields of England. Strangers by their side are the tulips 
 and tiger-lilies, and the clusters of purple iris that 
 bloom in Mohammedan grave-yards. Directly the 
 snow melts, millions of crocuses twinkle like stars 
 among the grass ; marsh marigolds and primulas fringe 
 the streams. If you turn into the woods, you find 
 violets and ferns emulating each other in luxurious 
 growth wherever the wild strawberry concedes them 
 room. Nor should I forget the edelweiss, that carries 
 no burden of tiresome tradition in Kashmir. 
 
 Thus we have in this strange country a happy mix- 
 ture of the temperate and tropic zones. There are some 
 things one misses; there are no daisies and no parrots. 
 
10 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 But there is more than enough, and all accordant well. 
 The lark sings as sweetly above the rice-fields as ever 
 he does above English corn ; the bees hum their 
 melodies over fields of clover and bushes of fragrant 
 hawthorn. There were moments when I felt unable to 
 bear the magic, the intoxicating splendour of the scene. 
 
 There were other moments when I felt again the 
 emptiness of all this natural beauty. Indeed, I believe 
 that natural beauty is never long tolerable- except as 
 the background of some activity. Or shall I rather 
 say that we could not much respect the man who spent 
 all his life looking at it? So deeply is this true that 
 when you have determined to dedicate a holiday to 
 scenery, you are much in danger of forsaking it for 
 some subordinate end. The very goal of your daily 
 march becomes the chief object of the day; tq reach it 
 in good time becomes an ambition. You pass by the 
 most magnificent views because you feel you would be 
 wasting time if you stayed to look at them. 
 
 Conversely, when you have something else to do, the 
 beauty of your surroundings often breaks in upon you. 
 I remember when I was a volunteer officer, on the 
 parade ground — even in the fateful hour of the General's 
 inspection — I used to grow so absorbed in the beauty 
 of the trees around us that I had the greatest difficulty 
 in attending to our evolutions. What a confession ! 
 And so much for the " harmonious life," which some 
 educationalists preach, certainly not a life to be lived 
 in this world. 
 
 Talking of dandelions, I may say they are much eaten 
 in Kashmir as a spinach. I learned this in the follow- 
 ing manner. For several days the cook produced no 
 vegetable; so I made a complaint of this and asked 
 
KASHMIR 11 
 
 whether nothing edible grew in the jungle. He replied 
 that there was indeed one plant which grew, there, and 
 was freely eaten both by Saheb log and aborigines, 
 but this year people were not allowed to consume it. 
 Last year the Maharajah's son had died; and this year 
 the plant in question had grown up spontaneously on 
 his grave. The Maharajah, therefore, had ordered that 
 for one year it should be spared from the pot. When I 
 asked to see this sympathetic vegetable, he produced a 
 dandelion. 
 
 Of bird and beasts Kashmir has now less than its 
 fair share, big game having mostly been exterminated. 
 Still, there are plenty of black bears left, and a few 
 mischievous leopards. Ibex and markhor have retreated 
 beyond the Zojila, where they are protected by stringent 
 regulations. You may take out a license and shoot a 
 fixed number — if you can get them. To accomplish 
 this you must do a good deal of climbing, and the man 
 who returns with a few trophies has cert^-inly earned 
 them. I was not shooting myself, but had the good 
 fortune to see some ibex near the Zojila. They were 
 feeding in the sort of place they love, a bare pdtch 
 among the snow, about a thousand feet above us. Pre- 
 cipitous rocks are their pative element, and like all 
 creatures in such circumstances their certainty and grace 
 of movement are delightful. 
 
 The crow and the pie-dog and the moorgi abound in 
 Kashmir as elsewhere. The crow is fatter and more 
 consequential, l:he moorgi more succulent, and the pie- 
 dog as great a nuisance as he always is. Whatevef- 
 you leave about in your tent at night, if it is edible,, 
 some pie-dog will find it out before morning. I had 
 to mourn a pound of cheese on one occasion. But that 
 
12 IN*^FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 is a small matter. I could forgive the creatures for 
 
 practising their only possible means of livelihood. But 
 
 why do they bark in such a fearful manner? Wow — 
 
 wow — wow — wow — wow ! A long, quintuple bark with 
 
 an accent on the last syllable, repeated by every pie 
 
 twice a minute all the night through. Why does the 
 
 pie-dog do it ? Nature does nothing in vain ; and this 
 
 wretch, of all her family, has least energy to spare. 
 
 Yet there he goes yelping all night long outside your 
 
 tent; and in the morning, when you Stir abroad and 
 
 begin to think ruefully of your day's march, he and his 
 
 friends are wrapped in slumber a few yards away, 
 
 " taking their fill 
 Of deep and liquid ease, forgetful of all ill." 
 
 Among the pleasant places of Kashmir not to be 
 forgotten are the springs at the south-east of the valley. 
 The largest is at Vernag, the acknowledged source of 
 the Jhelum. The volume of water is very great; it was 
 enclosed by Jehangir in a tank of masonry, forty feet 
 deep,' with octagonal sides. Round it he built an 
 arcade, crowned with a mansion on one side. Under- 
 neath this the water flowed out into a garden, where 
 the Emperor spent many delightful hours. An inscrip- 
 tion near the tank recalls this bit of history. " The 
 King of seven kingdoms, the. Minister of Justice, the 
 Father of Victory, Nur-ud-din Jehangir halted at this 
 spring in the fiftieth year of his reign. This building 
 was erected by order of his Majesty. 
 
 The Angel Gabriel suggested its date:* 
 
 " May the miansion last for ever and the spring flow 
 till the end of time 1 " 
 
 Alas for the architect's hopes ! The spring flows still, 
 * This is one of the usual chronograms. 
 
KASHMIR 13 
 
 and may flow as long as he desired ; but the mansion is 
 a heap of ugly ruins. The stones have fallen and been 
 carried away, and no one has cared to protect or replace 
 them. The semper eadem of India. 
 
 One of the arches is occupied by a party of Brahmans, 
 who have set up a ling there. The sight would have 
 made Jehangir stare, but heedless of this reflection they 
 celebrate their puja morning and evening with great 
 zeal. I -watched the evening service with much pleasure, 
 listening to the weird notes of the shankh, the clash 
 of their cymbals, and the beautiful music of their songs. 
 I asked them to translate these songs, but they politely 
 declined on the ground that they did not know enough 
 Hindustani to do so. When I suggested that Azad Bat 
 should help them out, they rejected the proposal with 
 genuine horror; never, never would they translate 
 Sanskrit within range of a Mohammedan's ears. They 
 brought me on the first day two books to sign, and 
 when I left, and made a contribution to their funds, I 
 found they were divided into two hostile camps. Every 
 other point had been compromised except one, the 
 division of the proceeds. For one camp numbered 
 three followers, the other two; and the question was, 
 whether eight annas in the rupee should go to each 
 side, or three and one-fifth annas to each man. So I left 
 them wrangling over this and went my way. 
 
 "How paltry! " some one may say. True; but , 
 viewing all things in a just perspective, was this a less 
 exalted dispute than that of the Scottish Churches? 
 
 I should not forget the madman who came to the 
 Vernag spring and danced and sang and chuckled to 
 the fishes there. He was an «ld man, like Father 
 William, but amazingly active, and he filled the air 
 
14 m FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 with strange noises. Madness is one tduch of nature 
 which makes the whole world kin ; and I think the 
 brotherhood of man is evinced more clearly in asylums 
 than anywhere else. There are no asylums, in Kashmir, 
 however, though there are plenty of lunatics. In one 
 village they showed me a naked little boy, about eight 
 years old, stout and well-built, but hopelessly mad and 
 possessed by a spirit of dumbness. He had some' 
 glimmerings of sensible impulse, at least he understood 
 enough ^o hold out his hand, and on being conducted 
 to a chapatti shop seized two chapatties without hesita- 
 tion. They told me hie was an orphan and had invented 
 for himself the plan of seizing pie-dogs — bitches, 
 perhaps, I should say — and sucking their teats, 
 zubberdasti se. Later on, very likely, he would be 
 induced to carry loads, and repay the expenses of his 
 education. 
 
 At Achebal there are more springs and more gardens. 
 The water there rises up in little mountains, and flows 
 away in the usual artificial channels. There are the 
 usual gardens, with glorious .chenar trees; and bowers 
 of roses where the bulbul^f not the nightingale— sings 
 willingly enough. So much of Moore's poem is true; 
 if he had seen the real Kashmir, I doubt if he could 
 have written the rest of it. However, it matters not; 
 in those old gardens, with the panorama of nature round 
 one, the hills and the cedars and the snows beyond 
 them, one is not obliged to listen to Moore's banjo, or 
 to think of him with any other feeling than unliquidated 
 pity. 
 
 Then there is Bawan to visit, smallest but clearest of 
 all these springs, whose reservoir is tenanted by crowds 
 of sacred fish. Two maunds of rice a day they eat, 
 
KASHMIR 15 
 
 consuming two rupees of solid silver. When visitors 
 arrive, chapatties are produced, over which they fight 
 strenuously, making a prodigious uproar, and shoulder- 
 ing each other out of the water. The elms and chenars 
 of Bawan are unsurpassed, and as I sat beneath them 
 in the moonlight, I blessed the memory of Jehangir, 
 who set them there. 
 
 At Bawan I met a Brahman boy about thirteen years 
 old, who spoke English, and went every day to Islama^ 
 bad to school. Distance about ten miles there and 
 back; he said he found it good for his health. We 
 had a pleasant conversation on the state of ediication 
 in Kashmir. Next morning he reappeared with two 
 annas in his hand, and complained that my cook (under 
 instructions from the lambardar) had taken wood from 
 their house worth two annas and a half, and had only 
 paid two annas for it. The cook, on bein'g questioned, 
 averred that this was the precise value of the wood. 
 Much and long did he and the boy and Azad Bat dispute 
 concerning the matter, till at last, moved by the re- 
 collection of our pleasant conversation, I bestowed half 
 an anna on the boy and satisfied him. Result, a sulky 
 demeanour on the part of the cook, who did not recover 
 his usual good humour till next day. 
 
 But here I have lighted incidentally and almost pre- 
 maturely on the subject of travelling in Kashmir, and 
 ways and means thereof. It is a country that has es- 
 caped the blighting influence of western civilisation ; 
 there are no roads in it, no hotels, and scarcely any Dak- 
 bungalows. You must take your tents, and your stores, 
 and you must call on the local authorities for coolies. 
 These you will get without difficulty. Kashmir is ages 
 behind other places; as long as there are coolies about 
 
16 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 they have to come. Their pay is fixed by the State ; four 
 annas a day for a march of twelve miles or so, six 
 annas for one of fifteen. This is not much; perhaps it 
 is enough; in many places it would not tempt coolies 
 to come at all. Kashmir, in fact, would remain un- 
 known if the traveller had to make his own bargain 
 with the coolies everywhere. So I will not object to 
 the system,*^ but I regret that all visitors are not duly 
 considerate to the coolies, and forced marches, excessive 
 loads, and actual danger from snow and ice are some- 
 times imposed on them. If these evils are in some 
 cases inevitable, they should be compensated by liberal 
 pay. It would be as well to remember this before the 
 spirit of progress emancipates the Kashmir coolie. 
 
 I am not myself anxious to see his chains unwound 
 too soon. Let me relate an episode from my journey 
 back to Rawal Pindi. Twenty-three miles from Murree, 
 in the Punjab, I found a commissariat driver lying in 
 the road with his thigh shattered. He had fallen off 
 his wagon, and the wheel had passed over him. His 
 companions had tied his leg up with a handkerchief 
 and there he lay. What was to be done? I put a rude 
 tourniquet on his leg, and my first thought was to 
 march him into Murree on a charpoy. Looking down 
 the valley (a desolate spot), and perceiving one or two 
 houses in the distance, I went off to procure the article. 
 The tenant of the house was at home. I explained the 
 situation, requested the loan of a charpoy and promised 
 to pay for it. He replied that he hadn't one. Entering 
 the house, however, I perceived that he had two; so 
 with the aid of my syce I picked one up and marched off 
 with it. Then I asked the man to come and help us, 
 repeating the promise of payment, but he only answered 
 
KASHMIR 17 
 
 " I am not a boje-wala; you are carrying off my char- 
 poy by violence, I shall not come." (He did come, 
 however, keeping at a safe distance.) Well, we went 
 back to the man ; and I found three or four labourers 
 assembled. We lifted him on to the charpoy, and 
 then I said to them, " Now, march him into the next 
 village, I will pay you for your services, and get some 
 fresh coolies there." " What will you pay us? " said 
 they. " An anna a mile, each of you," said I. If it 
 had not been for the matter of principle, I would have 
 given them more; but I was not going to let them 
 profit by their inhumanity. "It is not enough," said 
 they; " this is six men's work " — there were only four 
 of them present, besides my syce. Luckily there were 
 large stones lying on the road in great abundance, and 
 seized with a happy inspiration, I picked them up and 
 rained them at these coolies. Whereupon they rose 
 sulkily and took up the charpoy and proceeded with it. 
 Now, had these Punjabis lived in Kashmir, they would 
 not have needed telling twice to pick up that charpoy. 
 So I doubt if it will be better for them than for the 
 enslaved Kashmiri on the Roz-i-khiamat.* 
 
 Well, travelling in Kashmir, as I said, is easy 
 enough, there are coolies and supplies everywhere. But 
 if you are a conscientious person you will be much 
 perplexed over the grand problems of payments. If 
 you like to leave things to your servants, you will have 
 no trouble yourself, but coolies and villagers will make 
 
 * As for the driver, I had to take him off the charpoy presently 
 and put him in the tonga. We made the best possible sirrange- 
 ments. but the jolting- gave him great pain, and he writhed and 
 howled and cried out continuously " Alla-hu ! Alla-hu ! Give 
 me something to make me die! " He died just as we entered 
 Murree. 
 
 B 
 
18 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 little out'^of you. If you determine to do justice to them, 
 you will be always fighting with your servants, and 
 a thousand inconveniences will spoil the pleasure of 
 youi' holiday. Vide supra, the episode of my little 
 friend at Bawan. I made my own compromise on the 
 point, always paying the coolies myself, but 4eaving 
 supplies to the cook. After all, it behoves the Kashmiris 
 themselves to be reasonably bold towards the cook of an 
 unofficial traveller. 
 
 Violerice I deprecated, but Mr Azad Bat would have 
 been unhappy if no discretion of personal chastisement 
 had been allowed him. One day I saw him cuffing a 
 coolie's head, and on my inquiring into the man's 
 offence I learned that he had falsely reported a certain, 
 bridge to be broken and led us to take a detour. " The 
 fact is," said Mr Bat, " this man is not a real Moham- 
 medan but a Shiah; and that is why-fce told us a lie, 
 and that is why I gave him a slight licking." 
 
 The history of Kashmir naturally throws some light 
 on Kashmir life to-day. It is all written in Sir Walter 
 Lawrence's admirable book, and I will only cast a brief 
 glance at it here. It begins, of course, with the Hindu 
 kings, whose achievements are chronicled in the 
 Rajatarangini.* Lalitaditya is the greatest of the early 
 names; he was a warrior who crossed the high passes 
 into Thibet, and subdued some part of Central Asia. 
 His date is about a.d. 700, and he was followed three 
 centuries later by a great queen, Didda, whose name 
 the antiquarians know. This we may believe to have 
 been the golden age of Kashmir. Then followed Islam, 
 the Kashmiris were converted and produced a native 
 race of Mohammedan kings. One of these was the 
 *The only Hindu historical work. 
 
KASHMIR 19 
 
 stern Puritan, Sikandar a.d. 1400, who burned seven 
 maunds of threads of slaughtered Brahmans. Under 
 him the dice-box and the wine cup were interdicted, 
 and the use of all music forbidden. His successor, 
 Zain-ul-ud-din was more liberal, he tolerated Hinduism, 
 and for fifty-two years paid all his own expenses out 
 of a copper mine which he discovered himself. Here- 
 in he set a great example, but who has ever followed it ? 
 Not the Moghuls, who soon afterwards entered Kashmir. 
 
 Akbar stayed there but a short time. He met with 
 some resistance and is said to have made the Kashmiris 
 adopt their present feminine dress as a punishment for 
 their insolence. Be this true or false, he built a strong 
 fort at Srinagar, which commemmorates his stay, and 
 Todar Mull fixed the revenue of the country. Jehangir 
 came often to enjoy the scenery, travelling over the Pir 
 Panjal with all his court.* He planted chenar trees 
 everywhere in Kashmir, and built palaces and made 
 gardens by the lakes. There in fifteen yearly holidays 
 he and Nurjehan fleeted away their time, till death 
 overtook him on a last journey across the mountains, 
 murmuring the name of Vernag, and desiring to die 
 in his mansion there. 
 
 Very likely the Moghul rule was not uncomfortable, 
 and it introduced the well-known art industries of 
 Srinagar. Of the Pathans who followed, neither the 
 Kashmiris nor the English writers who have followed 
 them, speak well. Sir W. Lawrence tells us they es- 
 teemed it a jest to set a pot of ordure on a Brahman's 
 head and pelt it with stones till it broke. 
 
 * Bemier, the traveller, went with him once and witnessed 
 the death of sixteen elephants, who all fell down a Khud, with 
 sixteen loads of ladies on their backs. 
 
20 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 But then no Pathan has written the history of Path 
 rule, and when some Pathan arises to do so, no dou 
 he will set matters in a different light. History is wt 
 we choose to make it, and I have long since decided tt 
 historical truth cannot be ascertained; if ascertained, 
 cannot be communicated ; if communicated, it cannot 
 used to any profitable purpose. On my return frc 
 Rawal Pindi, I travelled with an old Pathan gentlerai 
 who had an estate in Kashmir, and whose grandfathi 
 no doubt, had seen Pathan rule flourishing before t 
 Sikhs upset it. We had much pleasant conversatio 
 touching the recent riots and other topics, and he quot 
 a Persian proverb which means, " You have set r 
 on a plank in the ocean and told me not to get n 
 clothes wet." I do not think he would have consent 
 to an unfavourable account of Pathah rule in Kashmi 
 but he would have had to admit that the Sikhs dro 
 out the Pathans in the nineteenth century, and i 
 established Hindu rule. When the Sikhs succiimb 
 to the Feringhee, Kashmir was presented to the Ra 
 of Jammu, to whom it now belongs. He has a privj 
 road over the Banihal Pass, by means of which he vis 
 Srinagar every summer. When I was at Achebal^ t 
 Rani Saheb was expected on her way thither, and 
 vast concourse of coolies had been gathered to exprt 
 their loyalty in terms of personal service, by carryii 
 hex baggage and paddling her boats to Srinagar. 
 
 These vicissitudes in the history of Kashmir ha 
 left their marks on the country. The earliest ages £ 
 represented by the ruins of temples. The traveller 
 recommended not to overlook them, for the most perfi 
 of them he must actually pass on his way along t 
 Jhelum Road at Rampur, and the largest,' Martand, 
 
KASHMIR 21 
 
 easily accessible from Islamabad. In point of antiquity 
 they are, perhaps, the oldest buildings in India, and 
 their style of architecture is peculiar to Kashmir. To one 
 familiar with Chalukyan or Dravidian temples it is a 
 revelation ; -where did it come from ? I know not, save , 
 that the fluted pillars of the colonnades suggest a fading 
 reminiscence of Greece. But the general effect is not 
 Greek; it is just that of its own style, like all archi- 
 tectural effects, and must be seen to be understood. It 
 has little ornament, though that little is quite Hindu ; 
 and it has more the effect of a building conceived as 
 such than most Hindu temples convey. Martand is 
 rendered impressive by its size, which has rarely been 
 exceeded by Hindu temples ; and it stands amid remark- 
 able surroundings. Behind it rise the mountains at the 
 southern end of the valley, befo^re it is spread the plain, 
 surveyed from the platea,u on which it stands. On either 
 hand are the lateral ranges; and the proportions of the 
 valley are all distinctly visible. It is a noble scene and 
 harmonises with the severe grandeur of the temple. 
 Other ruins of Kashmir, all in the same style, only 
 just fall short of Martand in dignify. The temples of 
 Wangat rise at the head of a deep, narrow valley be- 
 neath the eternal snows of Haramukh. Payech, small 
 but perfectly preserved, is set in a little glade on the 
 border of a village. They are all in different ways re- 
 markable ; and all slowly disappearing. They are safe 
 to-day from the hand of the iconoclast, but the rain 
 and sunshine, the frost and snow are implacable 
 enemies, and time bririgs against them from age to age 
 the assaults of earthquakes. It is a wonder there is 
 anything of them left; still there they are, fragments of 
 a Kashmir more populous, more powerful, and more 
 
22 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 civilised than the valley is to-day. Other such frag- 
 ments are the lines of old canals, and popular tales of 
 what sleeps beneath the Woolar Lake^ cities and palaces 
 of ancient kings. 
 
 Modern Kashmir comprises, to begin with, the Kash- 
 mir peasant and the village he lives in. It is not unlike 
 an old Swiss village, a group of wooden huts, buried in 
 fruit trees and walnut trees.- Picturesque in the extreme, 
 not uncomfortable, but as dirty as such places always 
 are, whether in Switzerland or Kashmir. Near it prob- 
 ably is a ziariat, or tomb of a saint, with a small 
 enclosure and a few elms or chenars. Just outside it 
 is a burial ground, with mouldering heaps of turf and 
 beds of iris. 
 
 The villagers are all Mohammedans. They wear an 
 overall, with an opening for the neck and two wide 
 sleeves; it is dropped over them, so to speak, like an 
 extinguisher. If you make their acquaintance on a 
 cold day, you will be surprised at their goodly, portly 
 appearance. This is due to the presence of a Kangrai 
 concealed under each tunic, a wicker basket containing 
 a clay vessel with some charcoal in it. I suppose this 
 is comfortable to the stomach, like the " small boys " 
 which Lord Bacon recommends, or like the scaldino of 
 the Italians. " What Laila was on the bosom of 
 Majnun, such is the Kangra to the Kashmiri," so says 
 the proverb; and Italian ladies do facetiously call their 
 article " ill mio marito " — my spouse. It is a treacher- 
 ous friend to the Kashmiri, who often gets shockingly 
 burned by it in the winter. In that season, moreover, 
 he protects his feet from the snow by " grass shoes." 
 They are made of rice straw, very ingenious and cheap 
 and excellent for use on the' mountain side. 
 
KASHMIR 23 
 
 In appearance the Kashmiri is tall and dignified. Of 
 his female folk I saw little save garments streaming 
 behind them as they fled from my approach. What 
 little I saw did not account for the tradition of Kashmiri 
 beauty. Slatternly in the extreme, they were also ex- 
 tremely ugly ; the hard field life which often elevates the 
 faces of men being unfavourable to female charms. 
 Perhaps the upper classes of Srinagar may contain 
 some good-looking damsels, siich as in earlier days 
 were fattened and perfumed for the Moghul harem. 
 But these are left to the tourislt's imagination, aided 
 by the picture post cards; and I do not fancy that any 
 man on the spot will realise Lalla Rookh from the 
 experience of a house-boat. 
 
 Village life wears various aspects, according to the 
 situation of the village. Some villages are miserably 
 poor, and all the people of Baltistan are poor. I had a 
 good chance to view them assembled one day near the 
 Zojila Pass. I thought I had never seen so wretched a 
 concourse of human beings. I could not help recalling 
 
 Dante : 
 
 /' 
 
 " Poscia vid'io mille visi cagnazzi 
 Fatti per freddo ; onde mi vien ribrezzo 
 Everra sempre, de' gelati guazzi." 
 
 Starved features, stunted forms, ill-protected by their 
 miserable rags, they seem to have been born in hell 
 and lived there all their lives. Though goggles' for 
 protection against the snow cost only three annas each, 
 they pould not afford to buy them, and almost every 
 man of them suffered from sappurating eyes. They 
 lived in Baltistan on their little patches of coarse, in- 
 nutritious grain, and descended ihto Kashmir to earn 
 stipends as coolies. What a contrast between them 
 
24 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 and the people of Rozloo, a Kashmiri village in the 
 south-west of the valley. I sat there one day and said 
 to myself, " Now, is there anything Providence could 
 give these people that they haven't gof? Excellent 
 land, arable and pasture; unfailing crops, scores of 
 cows, hundreds of sheep ; poultry as many as they like 
 to keep, beehives attached to every cottage; a river full 
 pi fish not far off; fruit trees, walnut trees, deodars 
 for timber within easy reach; no floods, earthquakes 
 "comparatively unimportant, and cholera easily avoided, 
 for they draw their water from perennial springs. And 
 what use dd they make of all this ? Not one of them 
 can read,, or wants to read ; they sit around all day long ; 
 they have never even made any sanitary arrangements, 
 but ease themselves just outside their village, here and 
 there and , everywhere, like animals. Is this satisfac- 
 tory? ',' Possibly one might reply, " At any rate they 
 are comfortable, their Virtue will, pass muster, and 
 civilisation is generally admitted, by thpse who have 
 tried it, to be a failure." I leave the argument to the 
 reader. My own experience is, thiat the more I reflect 
 on these subjects, the more cautious I grow about offer- 
 ing advice ta other people about changing their habits 
 or their views, or anythi,ng else that is theirs. I can 
 see some respects in which I have got to change myself, 
 if I am to make any progress towards the ideal. But 
 is not all progress, as some sages say, an illusion of the 
 youthful West? 
 
 Let us turn our eyes from the villages to Srinagar. 
 It is a large town, containing about a hundred thousand 
 souls. It stands on both sides of the Jhelum, which 
 flows swiftly and silently through it, like a sleeping 
 fion, as the saying ruhs; for every now and then he 
 
KASHMIR 25 
 
 wakes and rises and springs on the city. Then houses go 
 down by hundreds, and bridges vanish, and people are 
 drowned in large or small numbers according to the year. 
 
 It has always been so. There was a time when the 
 whole valley of Kashmir was a mountain lake, whose 
 beach is still visible on the mountain side. In thq 
 course of ages the water found its way out; the Jhelum 
 was formed and the valley of Kashmir was drained. 
 But the Jhelum is a narrow outlet, and when heavy 
 rain accompanies melting snow on the mountains, a 
 flood is inevitable. A few years a,go the water in 
 Srinagar rose eighteen feet in two hours, and the 
 Jhelum lower down rose in its channel forty feet. At 
 present a scheme is on foot to dredge it, and deepen 
 the channel. This will cost a very large sum, but a 
 saving will be effected in the end if the Kashmir floods 
 can be prevented. 
 
 The houses in the city are mostly of brick and wood. 
 Their wooden roofs are covered with earth as a protec- 
 tion against fire, and from the earth springs a crop of 
 tall grass, mingled with poppies and mustard. None 
 of them are really solid, most of them are wretched and 
 dilapidated. The streets are small, crooked and narrow, 
 and the chief means of communication is the river. It 
 is spanned by six bridges, the piles of which are huge 
 square caulks of timber, taking up a sixth part of the 
 river channel. The roadway is in tevery case new, the 
 upper portions of the old bridges having perished in 
 various floods. 
 
 The finest architecture in Srinagar is that of the Mo- 
 ghul mosques. The best exajuple is the Shah Hamadan 
 Masjid* by the river-side. One glance at it tells -the 
 
 * I am not sure this name is right. 
 
26 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 visitor what he is looking at, there is no mistaking the 
 work of the Moghuls. The material is entirely wood- 
 but the structure has in the fullest degree the amplitude 
 and grace of Agra. So has the Jumma mosque, whose 
 roof is supported by columns of single deodar trunks, 
 thirty feet high. It is now of course neglected and 
 perishing. ' 
 
 So much for Srinagar's outward parts. I leave to the 
 sociologist some other topics, its police,' its morals and 
 its sanitation; the C.M.S. School, and the C.M.S. hos- 
 pitals; and I proceed to speak of its arts. They have 
 spread the name of Kashmir throughout Europe, and 
 one is naturally curious about them. In the first place, 
 then, it is woBth remarking' that they are none of them 
 native to Kasfimir. By ancient tradition it is about the 
 least artistic country in the world. Its arts are all 
 centred in Srindgar, and they were all developed in the 
 service of the Moghul court. The Moghuls brought 
 with them from Persia and Turkestan their ideas of fine 
 art and its application, they brought with them also 
 artisans who settled in Srinagar and afterwards taught 
 the natives there. The place was found a good centre 
 for artistic work. It lies on the chief route from Asia 
 to India. Caravans brought from China the wool of 
 the Thian Shan goats and the precious stones of Ladakh. 
 The former supplied the material for the shawls, the 
 latter some of the 'colours for the papier mach6 work. 
 Labour was cheap and the water of the Dal Lake, it is 
 said,, had a peculiar softening effect on the wool. Hence 
 the art industries once located in Kashmir continued 
 the're, and flourished under the patronage of the coutt. 
 
 The largest and best known is the shawl industry. 
 Napoleon's court brought the Shawls into fashion in 
 
KASHMIR 27 
 
 Europe, and they continued fashionable till the fall of 
 the Third Empire. French agents lived in Kashmir, 
 and co-operated with the Kashmir Government in keep- 
 ing up the standard of work. The secret of excellence 
 lay in careful choice of the wool and invention of the 
 pattern. The weaver's part was unimportant ; he worked 
 under directions, quite ignorant what patterp he was 
 producing. He made a narrow strip of the shawl, 
 which was afterwards sewn to other strips, completing 
 the whole. His wages were one anna a day, which was 
 just precisely what he could manage to live on. When 
 the famine of 1877 followed the loss of the French 
 market, twenty thouisand weavers died in Srinagar. 
 The whole industry is now extinct. 
 
 One may say, why was it not supported by demands 
 in India and Asia? This I do not quite understand, 
 but probably, as far as India goes, modern tastes have 
 rejected the shawl ; a good overcoat is a more convenient 
 article than a shawl, and it costs less. The West has 
 driven out the East, and the rajah of to-day, I suppose, 
 would sooner buy a motor-car than a shawl. In the 
 same way the papier mache industry has suffered ; there 
 is no demand now for its coffee sets or its cumbrous old 
 Kalamdans. 
 
 On the other hand, papier mach^ can be used for many 
 small articles, such as boxes, which are useful in all 
 ages. There is a great demand for them, and they are 
 largely manufactured in Srinagar to-day, along with 
 jewellery of an inferior sort and wopdrcarving. The 
 country is still, as ever, favourably placed for these in- 
 dustries, and much money and some reputa;tion might 
 be made out of them. Unfortunately, progress is ham- 
 pered by two opposite causes which work harmoniously 
 
28 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 to the same effect, the unreasonable expecta:tions of 
 visitors, and the hbpeless dishonesty of Kashmir dealers. 
 
 Of the first, first. The floods of visitors to Kashmir 
 are mostly intent on buying ," presents," and they are 
 all imbued with the idea that oriental art-work, should 
 be cheap. I do not quite know the history of this de- 
 lusion, biit it is certain that good Indian work, instead 
 of being cheap, compared with art-work elsewhere, is 
 rather expensive. The fact is, however, that finished art- 
 work never is or has been inexpensive anywhere in an 
 open market. Work produced in feudal ages has ap- 
 peared to be such, because the artists took a part of 
 their pay in security; and work produced in distant 
 countries, when the money in circulation is small, has 
 been sold at low prices in those countries. But never 
 in an open market has finished art-work been cheap, 
 and visitors to Kashmir, who demand what is cheap, 
 must naturally take and do take what is nasty. 
 
 On the other hand there are some visitors who want 
 what is good, and are also willing to pay the proper 
 price for it. A good article they may, from one or two 
 dealers, obtain. There are one or two merchants of 
 repute amongst the hundreds in Srinagar, who are not 
 anxious to sell the visitor the worst articlte he can be in- 
 duced to buy. But they all exact the last anna in the 
 price, and you are foolish to make a deal unless you 
 hav^ expert knowledge or an unlimited purse. I do 
 not write for millionaires, and to all others I would say, 
 beware how you enter these Kashmir shops. In a heed- 
 less hour you may listen to one of their touts, and step 
 into his boat and go shooting down the Jhelum to his 
 shop. There you find the venerable chief of the con- 
 cern, with three or four or five or six of his relatives. 
 
KASHMIR 29 
 
 There is nothing in their demeanour to waken suspic- 
 ion ; open-eyed rectitude transpires from every counten- 
 ance. There manners are at once deferential and 
 dignified, such as emperors and noblemen appreciate, 
 and if you are a base plebian, as I for my part am, you 
 feel at once flattered and ^ embarrassed. But having 
 taken a part in the comedy you must, like the Emperor 
 Augustus, sustain it to the end. Nothing is wanting to ' 
 the warmth of your welcome ; what would you like to 
 see ? You would like to see everything ; and everything 
 is shown you. Embroidery from Bokhara, and home- 
 less specimens of old Kashmir shawls, they are un- 
 folded and waved before your eyes and tumbled in a 
 l)ewildering heap on the floor. You try — or pretend — to 
 make a choice ; What might the price of this one be ? 
 — Fifteen hundred rupees. Well, certainly, you like it; 
 but the price is a little steep. " Perhaps another one 
 would suit you better ; will you have a cigar ? or a cup 
 of Russian tea? " When you hear these offers, which 
 are a regular move in the game, it is time to indicate 
 politely that to-day, at any rate,' you will not be a pur- 
 chaser. Then comes the moment when your fortitude 
 will be tested. A cloud settles on the brows of all the 
 company, a ^cloud of grief and disappointment. Evid- 
 ently they have been deceived in you ; who would have 
 thought it possible ? Can you bear to be such an im- 
 poster ? I am sure there are many people who cannot ; 
 who wildly buy something to save the situation. But 
 I generally escaped myself. Apopletic with conflicting 
 emotions, I tottered to* the door and sneaked into the 
 boat (the firm's boat, the very boat that brought me), 
 and found a sort of relief in stupor and exhaustion, 
 while I made a shameful retreat. 
 
30 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 The merchants who came to my tent were as plausible 
 as the magnates on the river, but much greater rascals. 
 I must relate the episode of the " foccus "-skin. Azad 
 Bat, my headsman, gave me a word of warning when 
 we reached Srinagar^ " Be on your guard," said he; 
 " what you hear in the village is half-true and half- 
 false; what you hear in Srinagar is wholly false; and 
 especially do not trust these merchants, and if you want 
 to buy any skins, ask me the proper price." I did not 
 want to buy any skins, and I thought myself secure 
 from danger in that quarter. However, one evening, 
 when Azad Bat was out,, there came to my tent a skin 
 merchant, who offered to show me skins. I explained 
 the whole situation to him ; I was not interested in 
 skins, but only in old brass; moreover, I did not know 
 the price of skins and had promised Azad Bat not to 
 buy any. He replied' that my attitude was very sensible, 
 that he would not even attempt to sell me any, but he 
 saw no harm in my looking at some. He had the 
 pleasantest face and the most insinuating voice in the 
 world ; and his recommendations spoke with bated 
 br6£tth of his extraordinary~honesty.* His skins, too, 
 were perfectly beautiful, and at last my eye dwelt for 
 a moment on that of a Yarkandi fox. He detected at 
 once the wavering of the balance, and mentioned quite 
 casually the price — seven rupees eight annas. Woe is 
 me! I succumbed to it; I counted out the shekels, and 
 he departed. The skin I put away in my trunk, thinking 
 to conceal my guilt. Half an hour afterwards Azad Bat 
 reappeared, and in firm tones addressed me and said, 
 
 * Every trader in Srinagar has a volume of recommeridations 
 from visitors, residents, Residents and princes, all testifying to 
 his excellent work and unimpeachable honesty. 
 
I4.AS11M1K 6i 
 
 ' ' I hear the Presence has bought a ' ' f occus ' '-skin ; 
 where is-it? " I drew it forth from my trunk, and 
 displayed it, and he asked what I had given for it. 
 " Seven rupees eight annas," said I ; " but observe what 
 
 a magnificent ' ' ' ' The proper price of this skin , ' ' said 
 
 he, disregarding my plea, " is three rupees; you have 
 brought this on yourself." I looked a doubt I did not 
 venture to express; but every day afterwards, as. long 
 as I stayed in Srinagar, Azad Bat introduced a different 
 skin merchant, who offered to sell me a " foccus "-skin 
 for three rupees. 
 
 You may also buy in Kashmir, and it is a good thing 
 to buy, a specimen of the torquoise jewellery from 
 Central Asia. It is popular jewellery, crude and un- 
 finished, but unerring in taste and- design.* How much 
 more pleasing is this than the spurious, which abounds 
 in Kashmir and wherever else in the world education 
 has begun to affect men. For one of the first fruits, of 
 education is a pretension to. taste and culture, which is 
 too ignorant and often too mean to spepd the necessary 
 money on these things and contents, itself with spurious 
 affectations. 
 
 The true popular art of Kashmir is music. There is 
 much beautiful music lingering in the villages, and the 
 tourist may easily hear it, at the cost of a little , persya- 
 sion. Many a time I had a party of " zemindars " 
 sitting round my camp, after nightfall, enlivening the 
 darkness with songs. Some were amorous, othe/s re- 
 ligious; when I asked for their significance, I sometimes 
 received no other answer "than an uneasy grin, some- 
 times, "Death comes at last to all men; therefore, 
 ^transgress not." I thought it would be well if the State 
 would encourage this country music by annual " ested- 
 
32 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 "fodds." They would cost little; surely they would be 
 popular. And what deserves encouragement better than 
 popular music in a country like Kashmir ? By its 
 agency the spirit of art elevates a life which, whether 
 hard or comfortable, is always sordid, monotonous and 
 void of outlook. Moreover the music which exists and is 
 enjoyed there is genuine and elevatipg art. Would 
 we had its like in England! Once indeed we had, in 
 the days of the Tudors; but we are now a fallen race. 
 Whether in the music-hall or the drawing-room we are 
 content with the vulgar and the spurious ; and the pros- 
 pects of the future are too plainly indicated by the vogue 
 of the gramophone and the pianola. 
 
 Of education in Kashmir I saw little, merely two 
 schools that "presented themselves by the roadside. At 
 one village there was an establishment of twelve little 
 Hindus and two Mohammedans who were learning 
 English on the syllabic plan. They were seated in the 
 open air, with the sunlight streaming on their books. 
 The predominance of Hindus was natural ; Mohamme- 
 dans have their own course of study. Passing along 
 a lane in Islamabad I heard a confused tumult arising 
 from the earth, and stealing up a yard and down a step 
 or two I found a small Mohammedan academy. They 
 were buried in darkness ; about a dozen boys learning 
 the Koran. Learning, that is to say, what it sounded 
 like, for the meaning neither they nor their pedagogue 
 understood. Nevertheless, they were pleased to display 
 their powers and picked up the Arabic symbols with 
 ready skill. I understatld Mrs Besant is building on 
 these foundations, and she has planted a Thepsophic 
 School and College 'at Srinagar. Her stragetic eye has 
 not overlooked the importance of Kashmir or the serious 
 
KASHMIR 33 
 
 mischief which is being done by Christian missions 
 there. 
 
 Having said so much of the beauties of Kashmir, 
 and the ease of life there, let me now paint in the 
 shadows of the picture. To begin with there is the 
 winter. Even in Srinagar snow sometimes lies on the 
 ground for weeks ; in higher districts it lies for months. 
 This means great misery for the poor, and the poor 
 abound everywhere. Still, the winter is an evil that 
 recurs, it can be foreseen and provided for. What is 
 worse is the train of natural calamities that harass the 
 country. There is no natural evil that does not con- 
 stantly threaten it, and on a gigantic scale. Floods I 
 have mentioned ; they sometimes drown all the lower 
 ground, and carry off miles of crops as well as thou- 
 sands of houses. In the wake of floods and exceptional 
 rain or snow come famines, which have plagued the 
 country from time immemorial. An account of one is 
 given in the Rajatarangini :* 
 
 " There was a heavy fall of snow all unexpected in the month 
 of Bhddrapada, when all the land was covered with rice-crop 
 ready for harvesting. In that fall of snow, white like the smile 
 of the fiend of destruction, the hopes of the subjects for finding 
 the means of livelihood perished along with the rice-ears. Then 
 ensued the rava.ges of a famine, which filled the earth with 
 famished and emaciated skeletons. The people in . the pangs of 
 hunger forgot shame, pride or rank. The father or the son 
 preferred to feed himself, though the other was in his last gasp 
 for hunger. Loathsome skeletons fought with each other for 
 food." 
 
 All this — ^and worse — must have been seen in Kashmir 
 many times since, especially in 1877, when things were 
 so bad that some people even ate their cows and 
 
 * I am indebted for this translation to a writer in East and 
 West for, I think, April. 
 
 C 
 
34 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 -were sentenced to penal servitude for life. The popula- 
 tion on that occasion was reduced by two-fifths. But 
 the Jhelum Valley road having made the importation of 
 grain possible, perhaps famine will be less felt in future ; 
 we cannot be so hopeful about cholera. This appears 
 to be a feature of modern times in Kashmir, perhaps due 
 to that same road, in accordance with the natural law 
 that one worldly evil succeeds another. It appears in 
 frightful epidemics, one of which was raging during 
 my visit. 
 
 I had proof of it in many new graves among the iris, 
 and in a curious ceremony by the roadside on one of 
 my marches. I found three large pots of rice boiling, 
 with a village squatting round them. Asking what 
 was up, I learned that this village had escaped from 
 the epidemic hitherto, and that morning prayers had 
 been offered for the future, and after the prayers alms 
 were to be distributed, to wit, this rice, which all travel- 
 lers were invited to partake of. A proceeding laudable 
 in spirit, anyhow; and it recalled what I had once met 
 with in southenn India, a rite for exterminating small- 
 pox. This was effected by making a suitable image, 
 performing mantras which drew the devi to reside in it, 
 and wheeling it round the boundaries into the fields of 
 the next village. I suppose the next village would pass 
 the creature on ; just as the malis of contiguous bunga- 
 lows throw small reptiles over each other's walls. 
 
 Medical knowledge, though much needed, hardly 
 exists. Accidents of all kinds are common ; so are 
 cancer, skin diseases, and sore eyes. There is a firm 
 popular belief in the medical skill of white men, which 
 often embarrasses the tourist. He has the physician's 
 robes thrust upon him. If he pleads ignorance, the 
 
KASHMIR 35 
 
 plea is not accepted. I did not wholly decline the office 
 myself, trusting chiefly to castor oil, quinine, and 
 boracic acid, and if I may believe all I heard, these 
 remedies are more potent than we generally suppose. 
 I was called in once to a baby; she was gravely indis- 
 posed, they said, and had long declined all food. I 
 found her swollen into a perfect globe, with hardly a 
 trace of features or limbs. I do not know what com- 
 plaint produces these symptoms, and I said so, but I 
 prescribed castor oil and faith in Providence. Fortun- 
 ately, on passing that village a week later, I learned, 
 at least I was informed,, that she had made a good re- 
 covery, and gone for a change of air. This was satis- 
 factory; but the most satisfactory of all my medical 
 experiences was different in its character. One day by 
 the roadside I saw a little boy with his face damaiged, 
 and plastered over apparently with cow-dung. It 
 appears he had been herding goats the night before, 
 and tumbled off a rock. Now I do not much believe in 
 cow-dung, whatever its mystic virtues may be, and I 
 had my zinc ointment handy, so I halted the expedition 
 and prepared to treat the case (not having been asked to 
 do so). Within a few minutes a concourse of people had 
 gathered, including the father of the boy, and I thought 
 it a good opportunity to inculcate in their rude minds 
 the virtues of scientific cleanliness. So I had some 
 water boiled, and a nice strip of lint prepared, and when 
 everything was ready I, sat down to wash off the cow- 
 dung. But behold! it was not cow-dung at all, but 
 chewed grass of a kind esteemed for this purpose. And 
 I found lit made an excellent plaster, adhering very 
 firmly, positively curative, and certainly calling for 
 no interference. So I left it alone; and I doubt 
 
36 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 if the assembly appreciated the higher wisdom o 
 course. 
 
 But it was a pleasant thing to find them able 
 something for themselves. And I doubt, aftei 
 whether anything is of much Value to people e 
 what they do in this way. Charity is fto doubt j 
 tractive programme. When we enter a mission 
 pital, and witness the stream of helpless misery 
 flows into its doors, and the immediate i-elief tl 
 often given, our hearts, be they hard as adamani 
 powerfully touched and melted ; we may even recal 
 half accept the uncompromising rule, " Sell all that 
 hast and give to the poor." But the spirit of d 
 that is equal to the task of undermining much stn 
 convictions, does not leave this impulse alone. ^ 
 is the fruit of all this charity, unless! it rouses 
 virtuous efforts in those who accept it? If charity 
 to effect this (and does it even succeed?) what is i 
 a gratification of our own sensibilites ? You 
 answer, we must act without heeding the frui 
 action ; and these words seem to comfort many p 
 in "this country! But their true application is a 
 blem ; and they are wrongly used if used, as they ; 
 times are, to justify a charity which is contented to 
 relieved the inimediate wants of ants, crocodiles 
 beggars. 
 
 If the State of Kashmir wants to do good am 
 its humble subjects, I should say, let it find a fev 
 ponsible men, equip them with simple medicines 
 send them to tour among the villages, living in ea 
 them a week or two, and patiently teaching the p 
 a litde about diet and hygiene. The day is not 
 for pompous reforms in these directions. But p 
 
KASHMIR 37 
 
 might learn that it is not safe to plant a latrine in the 
 middle of a stream and draw your water a,yard or two 
 away. Rivers are faithful servants of mankind, pro- 
 viding them with drinks, and carrying off their excre- 
 ments, but it is possible to impose on their generosity. 
 It is getting time I brought this chronicle to a close. 
 I will not do so without paying a tribute to Azad Bat. 
 He is not likely to read the pages, so I may say what 
 I like about him. He is, then, at this present time, a 
 young Mohammedan of a well-to-do faniily, who makes 
 his living as a shikari. I dare say he is a very good one, 
 at least he is properly imbued with the idea that the 
 pursuit of shikar is the serious business of life. More 
 than once he exhorted me to take it up. " You should 
 procure a gun," said he, " and shoot two or three 
 bears, and put their skins in your house. Everyone 
 is sent into this world to achieve something. On the 
 Day of Judgment every one will be asked what he has 
 achieved. If a man can point to something he will be 
 all right." In vain I represented that three hundred 
 miles of Kashmir, measured out with my Bombay legs, 
 ought to count for something. He would not admit this, 
 for he looked on walking as not less natural than breath- 
 ing, and we had to differ on this point. But we had 
 few other differences. He was a most excellent servant, 
 faithful in all matters, incessantly active, enduring, and 
 courageous. He was also intelligent, tactful, and good- 
 htimoured, so that altogether I remember him less as 
 a servant than a friend. We resolved on another 
 excursion together, contemplating Yarkand and the 
 Karakorum Pass. But whether creeping age and the 
 infirmities of my purse will consent to this, or the 
 authorities permit it, I cannot at present say. 
 
38 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 One day, near Amaf^nath, we found ourselves in a 
 towering ^valley, which seemed to me the very culrnina- 
 tion of mountain grandeur. Right opposite where we 
 stood was a precipice of several thousand feet. The 
 strata upon its side rose and fell in mighty billows, so 
 coloured and discoloured by many forces of nature that 
 we felt the presence of countless centuries. And half 
 to myself, and half to Azad Bat I said, " How were 
 these mountains formed? " Now he need not have 
 answered the question at all; and he might have said, 
 "who knows?" but like a true Mohammedan he 
 answered without a pause, " By the power of God " 
 (Khiida^ke-hasrat-se). I was greatly pleased with this; 
 the substratum, as it were, of his convictions cropping 
 out on the surface. For this is the chief truth that the 
 Semetic races have taught the vs^orld; the Arabian and 
 the Jew alike. ' ' The heavens declare the glory of God, 
 apd the firmament showeth His handiwork." It is a 
 common principle among the discordant systems 
 of Christianity, and those who hold it need not be 
 altogether hostile. 
 
 Kashmir of the future may not be quite the Kashmir 
 of the past. It may become richer, when people learn 
 to use its innumerable sources of wealth. Then perhaps 
 the forests will be thinned out, and the bowels of the 
 mountains explored for minerals. Roads will be made, 
 and motor-cars will run to and fro. The Woolar Lake 
 is already being drained. Perhaps mountain hotels will 
 rise up; and perhaps Srinagar will become the Lucerne 
 of the East. Certainly if the Swiss had the country, it 
 would be very different from what it is. But whatever 
 happens, for good or for evil, it will never become for 
 the active and reflective tourist, a more charming place. 
 
KASHMIR 39 
 
 It is sufficiently accessible, without being spoiled by 
 intruding luxuries. Procul O procul este profani! 
 
 P.S. — Should the reader desire any advice as to the 
 time for visiting Kashmir, I think, on the whole, the 
 best season for a short visit is the spring. There may 
 be some wet days, but the weather is cool, even in the 
 lower districts, and the Lolab Valley can be thoroughly 
 enjoyed. The snows will still be low down ; and the 
 aspect of the country altogether that of an Englisih 
 spring. The fruit trees will be loaded with blossom; 
 the chenars bare, but breaking into leaf, and nature 
 everywhere stirring after the winter. The season will 
 advance with magical speed ; in June the foliage will be 
 perfect, and the hill-sides purple with roses. To visit 
 the higher hills it is necessary to wait till July. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 OOTACAMUND, THE TODAS AND SOME REFLECTIONS 
 
 The' peninsula of India is a symphony in the music of 
 time. The Himalaya strikes the prelude, the moun- 
 tains and rocks of Cape Comorin the close, and a great 
 phrase on the way are-, the Nilgiris. They rise a little 
 inland from the Ghauts; the loftiest heights, the finest 
 mass in India. Some volcano of early times uphove 
 them, and its crater, twenty miles by fifteen, is now the 
 green hollow of Ootacamund. The sun and the frost 
 and the rains of many ages have rounded the slopes, 
 and decomposed the rocks, and the soil wears a thin 
 mantle of grass. Fierce alternations of heat and cold 
 check its growth, and it is poor pasture, but in the dis- 
 tance it looks well enough, and after a thousand miles 
 in the parched Dravidian Plains one is more inclined to 
 be grateful than critical. 
 
 It is possible indeed that the traveller, once arrived 
 at Ooty, may regret he has left so far behind the scenery 
 of the outer wall. The Nilgiris rise abruptly from the 
 plains. Down at Mettapollyam you lift your eyes to 
 a vast escarpment of rock, Coonoor-droorg rising eight 
 thousand feet above you; The cliffs are marvellous; 
 hundreds of feet they fall sometimes, and it seems like 
 a flight of iniagination to ascend them. But the ascent 
 was first made long ago, before history began, and even 
 
 Tippoo had his summer seat on that inaccessible peak. 
 
 40 
 
OOTACAMUND 41 
 
 Thence he too, like us, surveyed the plains, and no doubt 
 in a palki he was carried up some path through the same 
 ravine. Western enterprise has made a road since then, 
 and since the road a railway. The gradient is one in 
 twelve; the engine relies on the rack and pinion system, 
 and trains run up and down without apparent trouble. 
 There is an excellent system of putting the engine in the 
 rear, you are pushed up from behind, and you leave 
 behind you the dense cloud of yellow smoke which 
 announces your passage. As you go along, you see 
 glimpses of unspeakable scenery, and it is clear that this 
 ravine, before it was civilised, was second to nothing in 
 the world in the way of natural grandeur. Nowadays 
 it has suffered much from the all-destroying tea-planter, 
 and bungalows emerge here, there and everywhere. 
 You have to reconstruct the past. 
 
 Better still, you may resolve to go elsewhere and find 
 the past still present. Beyond Ootacamund, on the 
 western side of the plateau, is the sacred eminence of 
 Makurti Peak. It is easily accessible; you may take a 
 tent from Ooty, walk over there some morning, and 
 camp below the mountain. Next day rising betimes, if 
 you are wise, you may climb Makurti and look down into 
 Malabar. The formation of the mountain is curious. 
 It seems as though some earthquake had torn half of 
 it away, and, standing on its summit, you look straight 
 down where the other half should have been, straight 
 down into Malabar. The hollow beloW you is filled with 
 jungle, vast, solitary and impenetrable. Beyond is the 
 massif of the Nilgiri Peak, a tremendous stronghold 
 defiant of the climber, and between the two is a vision 
 of Malabar. We had but a scanty view of this on my 
 visit, for the mojjsoon was rolling inland and the hollow 
 
42 m FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 was full of sluggish clouds. But it is one of the great, 
 scenes of the world, and I am resolved that one day I 
 will cross the Wynaad and offer battle to that Nilgiri 
 Peak. 
 
 These mountains on the edge of the plateau are called 
 the Kundahs. They rise above it about a thousand feet 
 and are full of romantic glens and hollows. The best 
 way to see them is to go out and stay at Avalanche 
 Bungalow, about eighteen miles from Ooty. You may 
 go thence in any direction you please; the scenery is 
 all much the same. In every fold of the hills there is a 
 little wood or shola. The trees are of the laurel and 
 myrtle tribes, small but leafy, and the sholas have a 
 clustered look that is very charming. The rich greens 
 of the foliage harmonise with the grey lichens of the 
 trunks, and one feels the presence of antiquity. Some- 
 times a few deer show themselves, or a jackal steals across 
 the hill ; I should also observe that coral snakes abound. 
 They are very pretty and not very poisonous, so the 
 lover of nature is not conscientiously bound to kill them. 
 
 Near Ootacamund the sholas have mostly disappeared 
 and the country has been planted with Australian trees. 
 Some of these are not unattractive; the mimosa makes 
 a good hedge, and the acacia, though formal, has a bold 
 outline and shadowy depth of foliage. But the common- ' 
 est exotic is the eucalyptus, or blue gum tree, the most 
 useful and the ugliest. It grows about a hundred feet 
 high, with a thin trunk, ragged twisted bark, and a 
 small crown of drooping miserable leaves. Its aspect 
 is dejected and depressing; and bne's first impulse is 
 to say "• Away with it ! " Inquiry, however, shows that 
 like most ugly people and things it has innumerable 
 virtues and is indispensable. In the first place, it is 
 
OOTACAMTJND 43 
 
 unrivalled for sucking up noxious moisture and drain- 
 ing swamps. It grows more speedily than any other 
 tree; when cut down, it affords excellent firewood; and 
 without any complaints it grows up again of its own 
 accord. It yields eucalyptus oil, and finally, under the 
 manipulation of the chemist, furnishes an ingredient 
 indispensable for cordite. Hitherto we have depended 
 on Germany for this ingredient — the very country that 
 is going to eat us up — and it comes as a shock to learn 
 that we have been at their mercy for high explosives 
 since these instruments of civil and military warfare 
 were .invented. 
 
 Ooty is the home of many English flowers. The 
 gorse and the broom line the roads with yellow, the 
 privet fills the dells with an ancient well-remembered 
 scent. Anemones dance by millions on the grass; 
 nodding buttercups and Nilgiri daiaes. The flower of 
 the last is like that of the English daisy, but it grows 
 on a long thin stem and is not the companion of our 
 childhood. Violets and wild thyme are not absent, nor 
 blue bells and hyacinths. Ivy, too, is common. How 
 comes it that all these flowers find themselves on this 
 solitary height in the tropics? We do not know; we do 
 not know most of the things we should like to know. 
 
 Still, there they are, welcome to the exile, and com- 
 bining with the grass and cool air to revive old memories, 
 
 " Till that child's heart Within the man's 
 Begins to move and tremble." 
 
 We have, most of us English people, felt or affected 
 
 to feel the charm of the country and have opined with 
 
 Mercy : 
 
 " I think I am as well in this valley as anywhere else in all 
 our journey ; the place, tnethinks, suits with my spirit. I love to 
 
IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 in such places where there is no rumbling with coaches, no 
 ling with wheels. Methinks here, one may, without much 
 litation, be thinking what he is, whence he came, what he 
 done, and why the King has called him." 
 
 )f course the mood passes away, and I find it myself 
 great a relief to get back to the town as to get away 
 the country. If one were an arti.st and had work to 
 there, things would be different, but the ordinary 
 n must kill off his sense of duty if he is going to sit 
 1 admiring buttercups and daisies and shepherds and 
 y sheep. What a tour de force it was for Words- 
 rth to keep his moral sense alive through half a 
 tury of country life ! 
 
 )f Ootacamund itself, as a hill-station, there is a little, 
 not much, to be said. It is without doubt the most 
 ■active of these places in India. In the Himalayan 
 tions you live, as it were, on the roof of a house, your 
 ursions are confined to one or two roads along the 
 e of the hill. At Ooty you have rolling downs for 
 es around you, where members of the hunt pursue 
 ir sport. The station is well laid out, with prim 
 cias growing everywhere, and it looks, as some one 
 J said, like a well-kept cemetery. There is no over- 
 wding, though thete is one squalid suburb. The air 
 
 00 thin for new-comers, who take a few days to grow 
 d to it, and the cold is a little chilly at first. Some 
 iple prefer Coonoor, which is not so fashionable, but 
 ; finer walks and is cheaper. Do not forget when 
 
 1 are there to admire the tree-ferns in the woods, or 
 ask for grenadillas at desert. These are the fruit of 
 
 passion flower creeper; they are like little bombs, 
 h pulp inside them. You cut off the top and eat the 
 itents with a spoon. 
 
OOTACAMUND 45 
 
 Ooty is the oldest hill-station in India. Macaulay 
 lived there, and he must have dined there with old 
 gentlemen in wigs and knee-breeches, who ate nothing 
 but curry, smoked their hookahs between the courses, 
 and drank as much as was good for them. How far we 
 are removed from our forefathers, and how little our 
 posterity will resemble us ! It seems a principle with 
 the Demiourgos to change his types of life and charac- 
 ter; is there anything in the world that persists? 
 
 Shall we go to the Todas for an affirmation? They 
 are never far away at Ooty and they form a good back- 
 ground for the white man's civilisation. They were 
 there before he came ; we know not for how many cen- 
 turies, nor from what source derived. But the revolu- 
 tions of India left them alone. They must have arrived 
 there some time or other, and even before them some 
 ' eaYlier race had left cairns and barrows on the hills, but 
 from that date till last century they occupied the ground 
 undisturbed, and apparently without altering their cus- 
 toms. There is a vast literature about them ; the latest 
 author is Mr Rivers, an ethnologist from Oxford, who 
 spent six months on his inquiries, and compiled eight 
 hundred pages of information about their ways. It is 
 desperately hard reading, but so is all real science ; and 
 I am just going to pick a few plums out of it, and add 
 my own reflections on these queer people. 
 
 The Todas are tall, well-built men with " Caucasian " 
 features, brown skins, and superabundant hair. It is 
 the pride of a full-grown Toda to have a mop-like head 
 and a bushy pendulous beard. Curls are not unknown, 
 especially amongst the ladies, who encourage them 
 artificially. They live in groups of huts, called 
 " munds "; cut a barrel in two, lengthways, and you 
 
46 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 will have two Tdda huts, almqst the right size. The 
 door is a small square hole, just large enough to creep 
 through. Inside, there is no furniture, the simple habits 
 of the Todas not requiring any, except vessels to hold 
 ghee, which are made from the nodes of bamboos. 
 
 Their occupation is entirely pastoral ; they live on the 
 produce of their buffaloes. These animals are large 
 and fierce and exclusive ; though obedient to the smallest 
 hint from a Toda, they make war on any sort of 
 stranger who goes near them. Admire them, therefore, 
 from a distance, when you are exploring the hills. But 
 observe, if possible, the Todas milking them. They 
 are kept, at night in a round stone pen, knee-deep in 
 mire, and densely packed, and in this pen the milk is ex- 
 tracted from them by their masters. Women (as inferior 
 beings), are not allowed to go near them — or hear their 
 milk; and even men, when engaged on the ^acred task 
 of milking, have to take off all their clothes except their 
 perineal band. 
 
 For the Toda buffaloes are sacred , animals ; some 
 more, some less, sacred, but all in their degree invested 
 , with sanctity. And their milk (which they yield in 
 deplorably smald quantities) is also sacred. It may not 
 be sold or even used, I think, by the Todas till it has 
 been formally desecrated by being made into ghee, and 
 this process is carried on with intricate rites in special 
 buildings. As ghee, with some grain soaked in it, this 
 milk furnishes the Toda's food, also their hair restorer 
 and unguent, and it adheres more or less to every mater- 
 ial surrounding of the Todas. (I am not yet able to eat 
 butter since I associated with them.) It is also ex- 
 changed for cloth and iron knives, articles which the 
 Todas require, but do not make, fOr they make nothing. 
 
OOTACAMUND 47 
 
 With respect to religion, they recognise numerous 
 gods, to whom they pay little attention, and of whom 
 they possess no images. They salute the Sun, and they 
 speak vaguely of "the Swami," as Europeans do of 
 Providence. Their chief religious thoughts centre round 
 their buffaloes. The most sacred herds are attended by 
 officers called pullals, who live apart from the community 
 and make their own ghee with ceremonies of special 
 intricacy. The leading cows are crowned once in their 
 life with sacred bellsj and addressed in some such terms 
 as these : 
 
 " What a fine cow your predecessor was ! 
 
 How well she supplied us with her milk ! 
 
 Won't you supply us in like manner? 
 
 You are a god amongst us ! " 
 
 Prayers are also offered : 
 
 " May it be well with the buffaloes and their calves, may there 
 be no disease, may there be no destrpy^r, no poisonous animals 
 or wild beasts, may they be kept from falling down steep hills, 
 may they be kept from floods, may there be no fire, may clouds 
 rise, may grass flourish, may water spring." 
 
 Sorcery is believed in and practised, chiefly by sym- 
 pathetic magic. A bone is taken to represent an enemy, 
 it is buried in the ground and an incantation pro- 
 nounced : 
 
 " May an incurable sore come upon him, may his leg be 
 broken, may his hand be broken, may. his eye be destroyed, may 
 trouble come upon his house and family; what happens to this 
 bone in the ground, may it happen also to him." 
 
 Fortunately, there are means of ascertaining the 
 authors of such spells and neutralising their effect. 
 
 The doctrine of reincarnation is unknown. It is sup- 
 posed that dead Todas go to another world like this; 
 and buffaloes are killed for their use on the way. The 
 scene, I believe, is affecting; a buffalo is brought up to 
 
IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 : corpse of the dead man, and slain, and the assembled 
 
 das stroke his head and moan and weep over his 
 
 3. At one time many buffaloes perished in this way ; 
 
 British Government has now interfered and restricted 
 
 number that may be killed. 
 
 Their social system is polyandrous; but by various 
 )edients they recognise paternity and inheritance in 
 male line. They are divided into groups and sub- 
 lups, with various rules for marriage, and they have in- 
 ferable names for relations. Custom allows a woman 
 ecognised, paramour besides her husbands, and we 
 m to approach the communistic ideal of "free-love." 
 [he stability of their social fabric is secured by female 
 inticide. Sufficient women are preserved for breed- 
 purposes, and the race ha,s hot exceeded the number 
 ich. the Nilgiri plateau can support. The British 
 vernment has interfered with this regulation, and Mr 
 /ers surmises that in the last few years the practice 
 nfanticide haS ceased. 
 
 •"rom a moral point of view the Todas are well spoken 
 They commit no crimes, live pleasantly together, 
 1 treat their women and their buffaloes kindly. They 
 very intelligent, though devoid of literature, but not 
 thesleast artistic, tjiough I heard one of them dis- 
 rse some lowly music on a pipe. Their manners are 
 ; and dignified; though not a fighting people, they 
 ard themselves as lords territorial of the Nilgiris, a 
 m admitted by the Badagas, and even by the British 
 rarnment, who still (I believe) pay them rent, 
 t is a nice question whether these Todas are Hindus, 
 [ not perhaps one that a European should try to 
 wer. In fact, it is probably unanswerable, and in- 
 id of answering it one can only state again the 
 
OOTACAMUND 49 
 
 problem of " Hinduism." What is the real origin of 
 this system ? I must confess it often seems to me that 
 the orthodox view is doubtful and difficult to accept. It 
 is fancied that the pale skinned Aryans of the Rig Veda 
 when they entered India brought with them the civili- 
 sation which was the spiritual ancestor of Hinduism; 
 that in time they modified it, borrowing, elements from 
 the " Dravidians," and turned it into Puranic Hinduism, 
 but that the main current of influence was always 
 " Aryan." Is it not equally possible that the saddle 
 should be on the^other hbrge; that Hinduism is really 
 an ancient indigenous product of India, which absorbed 
 a few, though very few, elements from the Aryans? 
 
 We have, I suppose, no records of what the early 
 Dravidians were like* The Rig Veda speaks with scorn 
 of the demons and black natives of the forests, but what 
 does this prove? Nothing. Meanwhile we have the 
 fact that no feature characteristic of the Hindu system 
 is to be found in the Rig Veda. Caste is not there, rein- 
 carnation is not there, the cows and Brahmans have 
 nothing like their later status, images of the gods are 
 unknown, Shiva has not been heard of, nor is thei-e 
 any trace of the great monist philosophy, which makes 
 the world a dream, or of that mortification of the flesh 
 which is, a sure mark of Hindu sentiment. Where did 
 all these things come from ? As I would suggest, from 
 Dravidia. The strongest argument against me is the 
 spread of the Sanskrit language. But the circumstances 
 which favour the spread of a language are, obscure; and 
 against this consideration may be weighed the probab- 
 ility that the Aryan invaders were few compared with 
 the natives of India, and it is hard to see how they be- 
 came the chief forming element in Hinduism. 
 
IJN Jb'OK J^JltrJM li AJM US 
 
 ?or my part, then, I am disposed to look on the Parsi 
 Jay as the true inheritor of the Rig Veda, though 
 :'bf the Vedic Sanskrit, How much of that Puranic ^ 
 tiskrit really possesses, or the Prakrit vernaculars, I 
 t not, but at least they have the tradition behind them, 
 rhaps, too, Vedic ritual; I am ignorant of the matter, 
 e strength of my position is only an impression, 
 ng about India, that the Hindu system is indigenous ■ 
 India. AH races who came here before the Moham- 
 dans, Aryaps, Greeks, Persians, Scythians, and 
 ns, have each in their turn been swallowed up by it, 
 nng perhaps some little trace behind, perha;ps none 
 ill, but joining the same current, which has no doubt 
 ;lled in volume but flows in the main from one pri- 
 ral fountain head. And this is how Hinduism in 
 course of ages has so filled India that, from 
 ibaranath to Comorin, from Dwarka to Jakannath, 
 re is not a corner of land that does not belong to 
 while north of the Himalayas there is not a vestige 
 it. i " ' 
 
 ^s for the Todas, we cannot say who they are. Mr 
 /ers suggests they came from Travancbre; but their 
 guage is Canarese, though the language of the 
 ntry round them is Tamil. They have also a secret 
 guage of their own, the affinities of which are un- 
 ;led. We may be content at present to call them pre- 
 ividian. 
 
 "heir manner of life, on a superficial view, may appear 
 ;ivilised, but is it so certain that civilisation has any- 
 ig to offer them? They lack" knowledge, but not 
 jlligence, which is more important than knowledge; 
 y enjoy as much comfort and luxury as most civilised 
 n ; and there is not much to complete in their scheme 
 
OOTACAMUND 51 
 
 of morals. Infanticide 'has an objectionable sound, but 
 a philosopher may urge that the stability of society is 
 worth the momentary pangs of a few infants, and Toda 
 society has no problems ; no suffragettes and no anarch- 
 ists. When not employed in milking their buffaloes 
 ennui does not afflict them; they sit and whittle bits of 
 cane into the semblance of buffalo horns, whereas the 
 civilised man would be cursing his stars and wondering 
 what he was born for. I. should not on this account 
 recommend the people of Mayfair to adopt the Toda 
 formula, but neither_^ should I join myself to any scheme 
 for changing the Toda, 
 
 Unfortunately, however, for the Todas the enemy is 
 at their gates. The microbe of civilisation has entered 
 their system, and that most unfortunately the microbe 
 of a white civilisation frorri Europe. Now I do not wish 
 to be misunderstood on this point. I do not condemn 
 the white man's system ; I do not concur, for instance, 
 in Mr Ali's view of it. Even the unsuccessful white 
 races, the Turks, for instance, do in many ways deserve 
 the respect and sympathy of mankind. But there is no 
 doubt their influence on unsophisticated brown men has 
 been bad. I leave alone their relations with the highly 
 developed brown races ; I am thinking of what we have 
 done for the North American and the Tungus. The 
 benefits we have imparted to him have been — drink and 
 disease; that is all we have been able to give' him or he 
 has been able to take from us. So, too, the learned 
 judge sums up the case": 
 
 " Civilisation is brought to their doors with beat of. drums and 
 clangour of arms, in the ^hape of trousers and top hats, ' drinlc, 
 dise^ase, infant murder and prostitution. . . . They drink 
 and die and there is an end of it. But their fat lands remain to 
 reward the labours of the (white) civilised man." 
 
IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 "he case is spoiled a little by dragging in infant 
 rder and prostitution, because the Todas invented 
 se things for themselves ; and it is also true (pace Mr 
 ) that missionaries are not meant to accelerate the 
 vnfall of these unhappy beings, but to rescue them.' 
 sy do not, however, succeed. The trader is too much 
 
 them, and the barbarian powerless to help himself, 
 apable of being helped, hurries headlong to the devil. 
 Everywhere during my travels in North Siberia," 
 s Mr Stradling, " I have invariably found that the 
 luine pagan reindeer nomads stand on a much higher 
 si, physically, intellectually and morally, than the 
 ling nomads and other nomads who have come into 
 itact with civilisation, and are nominally members 
 the Orthodox (Russian) Church." There is the 
 asure of coming into contact with genuine good 
 ithens; undefiled by civilisation, honest and excellent 
 •pie, rendering you all the services they can as a 
 tter of honour and duty, never bargaining, and ex- 
 ting, as a matter of course, that you will treat them 
 the same way. 
 
 ^nd so to-day we perceive that the Todas are being 
 every way demoralised. They have begun to use 
 icles that require buying, kerosine oil tins for instance 
 tead of bamboo buckets; they have been spoiled 
 presents from foreign visitors, and their women sell 
 mselves foi' a few annas to loafers from the bazaar. 
 s lucky they have been studied and recorded in time. 
 
 did not part from them without purchasing a relic; 
 amboo churn wherewith the sacred milk is churned, 
 low ornaments the wall of my office, and I dare say 
 )ok upon it with more affection than its Toda owner 
 . For Todas do not, apart from religion, enter into 
 
OOTACAMTJND 53 
 
 intimate relations with their property and implements ; 
 this is, I fancy, a habit of the.materialistic white races. 
 In East and West for May, 1905, I read a poem, by 
 Dr W. H. Drummond, describing how the Canadian 
 peasant envisages his ' ' cabane ' ' : 
 
 " I look on de corner over dere an' see it, ma birch canoe. 
 I look on de wall were ma rifle hang, along- wit de good 
 
 snow shoe, 
 An evting else on de worl I got, safe on the place near me ; 
 And here you are too, ma brave ole dog, wit your nose up 
 
 agen ma knee." 
 
 I should like to know if any Hindu, Aryan or Dravid- 
 ian or Pre-Dravidian , has ever written a poem of this 
 sort. My old friend Tukaram would not have wasted 
 his time on such a theme. 
 
 One more observation and I have done with the Todas. 
 I have noted more than once how the newest civilisation 
 in the world is reverting to ancient ideas — I mean that 
 of America. It is in America the Vedantist propa- 
 ganda is making progress; it is America that has re- 
 jected the English fiction of law and set up in its place 
 the vendetta; and it is in America that the prevalence 
 of divorce is bringing back the system of polyandry. 
 I abstain from saying that any of these usages and 
 views are wrong — they are different from those current 
 in England. 
 
 I have left myself little space to speak of the Badagas, 
 a people quite interesting but not so peculiar as the 
 Todas. They cultivate the ground and furnish most of 
 the coolies of the Nilgiris. I had the good fortune to 
 come across one of their funerals. The deceased was a 
 woman, who had died in childbirth; her corpse was 
 exposed on a bed with a canopy over it, and underneath 
 were her winnowing fans and other domestic imple- 
 
&4 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 ments, all destined to be burned. There was a 
 concourse of people, and her friends and relations 
 dancing round her bier. I realised for the first 
 how such proceedings foster common sentiment 
 tribe. In one way they protect sbciety against se 
 ness; in another they encourage it, by confining 
 pathy to a circle. The proceedings , were ordetly 
 dignified, and ended in an interesting ceremony ■? 
 the sins of the deceased are forhially recited and t 
 ferred to a buffalo calf, who carries them off.. 1 
 were some " Badaga Brahmanas " who joined ii 
 dancing, waving coco-nut ladles in their hands 
 thought it hardly creditable that, these unsophistii 
 people should celebrate with so much pomp the obsei 
 of a woman. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 MADRAS AND BURMA 
 
 Setting forth to write of Burma, I find in my way, as 
 I found on my journey there, Madras. 
 
 It is not a town with much for the tourist, but what 
 there is, no doubt, is characteristic. The twd^ poles of 
 the place are the Madras Museum and Adyar. I can 
 recommend the Museum; it is well-ordered and well- 
 furnished, and displays the business-like spirit of the 
 West. You may see there much evidence of the Hindu 
 system; elephant goads of chisled steel, miniatures in 
 votive silver, the village pantheon of Dravidia, and 
 ancient bronzes of the great Puranic gods. Much did 
 I covet these, as did the Florentine Museum, which 
 offered a thousand pounds for the Tandey that adorns 
 the hall. But in vain, even to our nation of shop- 
 keepers ; there still it stands, Shiva, grandly pirouetting 
 and dancing out his furious glee, rejoicing, I suppose, 
 that the crazy world is dead. 
 
 I know not, neither do I know what to make or say of 
 Adyar. I went there — strangers are not excluded — I 
 saw the elephant-headed hall, with its baffling motto, 
 and its fresco of Zoroaster, Buddha, Krishna, and Jesus. 
 What is the Nazarene doing there? And where is the 
 Arabian Prophet? Mrs Blavatsky's statue is not absent; 
 and Mrs Besant, I suppose, will one day be throned by 
 
 55 
 
IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 side. Beyond, is the library where the mystics of 
 ages may be read, or, to interp6se a little ease, the 
 dent may divert hiniself with the thought-forms of 
 nentals on the walls. Have I not rightly said l;hat 
 j^ar and the Museum are the two poles of Madras? 
 ence and Mysticism ; you can never say ceci tuera 
 I, for they will always be fighting each other till the 
 ■ of Pralaya, with alternate victories and unchanging 
 lice. 
 
 ladras itself is a mystery. Who started the place 
 ;his ill-chosen spot? Nobody knows, any more than 
 know, in an earlier age, how the first Christians 
 le there. Surveying the Cross at St Thomas's 
 unt, we perceive that an epoch of history has van- 
 id — as Madras itself will vanish when its time comes, 
 there is nothing on the Coromandel Coast to keep 
 here. Its end will be like its beginning; there will 
 nothing left but huts and catamarans, and a few 
 ernien diving through the surf. With close-obserV- 
 eyes I watched them, for Ifelt I was looking into 
 future. 
 
 t is curious how unfriendly fortune has been to our 
 at settlements in India. Bombay is squeezed into a 
 d flat, Calcutta is on the most dangerous river, 
 dras on the most jdangerous coast in the world. Day 
 I night the kala pani thunders on the sand, re- 
 oing the ancient prohibition that bids the Aryan race 
 pect its limits. 
 
 *Jor did I, willingly, transgress them myself, for I 
 e the sea, and nautical life, and the whole business of 
 ting on and off ships. At Madras especially it is 
 de as horrible as possible. The steamers lie in the 
 ddle of the " harbour," rising and falling on the 
 
MADRAS AND BURMA 57 
 
 swell, and the stranger, ignorant of Tamil, is left to fight 
 his own way on board, contending as best he can with 
 beggars, coolies and boatmen. 
 
 Coolies are not the same all over India, they are more 
 troublesome at Madras than anywhere else. The scene 
 at Madras Railway Station reminds one of the sack of 
 Troy. I suppose the struggle for existence is keen 
 among these people. One evening, when I was walking 
 along the shore, three boys requested permission to 
 amuse me by jumpi"ng in the surf. Permission having 
 been granted, and the entertainment concluded, three 
 hands were stretched out towards me, in one of which 
 I dropped the expected remuneration. With the 
 speed of thought that hand closed on the money, and 
 the owner of it was off. Like those tormented souls 
 whom Dante saw beneath the flames of fire all three 
 sped along the sand : 
 
 " Un ammen non saria potuto dirsi 
 Tosto cosi com' ei furo spariti. " 
 
 I have now pretty well done with Madras, but cannot 
 avoid making some reflection on the statue of Sir 
 Thomas Monroe. It occupies a huge granite pedestal 
 in a conspicuous place, where it is well seen but not 
 understood by the people. For the absence of a canopy, 
 I am told, is a stumbling block to many, and it is 
 thought that only some great villain can have been" thus 
 exposed to the weather. The queer idea brought a 
 queerer one still into my head, that out of respect to 
 his memory, Sir T. Monroe ought to be fetched down, 
 and Sir George Arbuthnot installed in his place. Sir 
 George's creditors, when they get their dividends, would 
 no doubt bear the attendant expenses, which would 
 
IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 lude the removal of the inscription, and the substitu- 
 
 1 of another, something to this effect : 
 
 / 
 
 IN MEMORY 
 OF 
 
 Sir George Arbuthnot 
 
 Who was incarcerated in this Presidency 
 
 For Fraudulent Bankruptcy from 
 
 [-] TO [-] 
 
 This Statue 
 
 HAS been Erected by. those Whom 
 
 His Misconduct Ruined. 
 
 Liabilities, [ — ] 
 
 Assets, [ — 2 
 
 \.s A Humbling Reminder to the British Nation 
 
 whose Fame 
 
 is Tarnished, and a Measure of "Protection to 
 
 their Posterity 
 
 This would be a useful statue ; otherwise, what mock- 
 ;s statues are ! To be reared aloft in perennial bronze, 
 t every day men's eyes may be lifted up to yoy, and 
 teful blessings' may follow your memory — this 
 eed is a fine dream, ^jut it is not a waking reality. 
 3 many nobodies attain to statuary rank, it is not 
 livalent to fame. There is one true kind of fame, 
 itare vivus per ora virum, to live upon men's lips, 
 there any statue now standing in Ithe world of 
 ixander ? 
 
 ?he climate of Burma is not unlike that of India, 
 ngoon is hot and moist, Mandalay hot and dry. In 
 per Burma the cold weather is disagreeably cold — but 
 eed say no more of the climate, 
 "he scenery also resembles that of India. The green 
 
MADRAS AND BURMA 59 
 
 fields of the south are like rice-fields everywhere; the 
 forests, like the jungles of Malabar. There are the 
 same mountains, the same panorama of noble trees. 
 I did not see enough of them; only a brief glimpse on 
 the journey to Mogok. The teak forests I did not see 
 at all ; indeed, if you want to see big teak trees now, you 
 must go up to the Salwin and find some corner where 
 civilisation has not advanced its flag. 
 
 One is naturally tempted to make the tour of the 
 Irawadi. It is a novelty ; the steamers are so large and 
 comfortable, there is the prospect of interesting com- 
 pany on board, and " river-side life " visible. The 
 steamer becomes inevitable. 
 
 I will not say the choice is altogether a mistake. The 
 ofiicers of the company are interesting and pleasant 
 people. The table is good, and it is gratifying to find 
 oneself on a boat when there is no chance of sea-sickness. 
 There is some interest, too, in the navigation, when the 
 water is low. The steamier glides fteatly over sand- 
 banks, and you learn why the Irawadi is locally known 
 as " the overland route to Bhamo." But, after a while, 
 you begin to notice the confinement, and the incessant 
 noise of the paddles, and the small talk oi the tourists. 
 You begin to reflect that you came to Burma to see 
 Burma, and the supposed " river-side life " is a fraud. 
 The scenery of the defiles is a brief excitement, but no 
 scenery is truly visible from a railway train or a steamer. 
 The voyage on the river is best defended as the only 
 means of reaching Minbu or Pagan. 
 
 I should say, however, that it offers a good chance of 
 observing the purity of the Burmese air. This, perhaps, 
 is not equally striking all the year round ; in October, 
 certainly, it is a marvellous sight. It reminded me of 
 
IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 3cany; it reminds others of the Nile; I have seen 
 hing like it in India. Right up to the horizon every 
 line tells its tale ; and every outline is filled with har- 
 nious colour. The very sandbanks please the eye, 
 [ the skies are lovely.* I have nowhere seen such 
 isets, so blue a vault, nor such a glow declining in 
 
 west. , 
 
 \l common feature in the sunsets, and in the sunrise 
 , is a fan of coloured rays spreading upwards to the 
 ith. When I saw them in Burma I remembered that 
 ad often seen them in Ceylon, and I was told there 
 t Buddha had bequeathed them as a sign of favour to 
 ddhist lands. These same rays issued from his body 
 ing life; for, indeed, according to the mystics, they 
 m the colour of the arhat's aura — yellow, blue and red. 
 en to-day from certain images of Buddha, at certain 
 sons, they stream forth, but always they rise in the 
 IT evening sky, as a proof that the Blessed One is 
 ;ching his peoJ)le. Let those who will, deride this 
 end. At least it proves that Buddhist people have 
 iced the sky; and, certainly, it is curious that these 
 s are more conspicuous in Buddhist countries than 
 iwhere. One lady, however, told me she had noticed 
 m in Cyprus. 
 
 The prettiest place I saw iil Burma was Moulmein. 
 e ugliest, but most curious spot, was near Minbu— the 
 d volcanoes. These craters, I believe, are unique in 
 ia. They are connected somehow with the petroleum 
 ings, and are formed in the following manner. 
 St, a small hole opens in the ground, and from it a 
 ;am of mud emerges. Part of this mud collects on 
 
 rim of the hole, and thus the crater of the " volcano " 
 "ormed. By successive eruptions of mud it is raised 
 
MADRAS AND BURMA 61 
 
 gradually higher, till a Popocatepetli of thirty feet is 
 formed. The diameter of the hole is about three feet, 
 just enough to fall into. Large bubbles of gas rise 
 every few seconds, and solemnly explode with a dull 
 flop ; you can light them with a match. There are 
 perhaps a dozen of these volcanoes all together; their 
 colour is a bluish grey. Nothing grows on them ; they 
 keep each other company on the road outside Minbu, 
 and, like giant tortoises, pay no heed to the lapse of 
 time. 
 
 The soil throughout Lower Burma is sandy, having 
 all at some time or other formed part of the river-bed. 
 Trees embedded in this sand are sometimes petrified, 
 particles of sand replacing those of wood. The result is 
 very curious; every wrinkle and every line of the ori- 
 ginal wood survives. Large pieces yield a musical note 
 on percussion, and may be used as gongs. Specimens 
 may be picked up along the bank of the river, especially 
 at Pagan. 
 
 Rangoon lies some way up the river ; it is well not to 
 judge it at first sight. The river-side arrangements are 
 all crude and ugly, you have to wait a little before you 
 realise the good points of the town. Observation then 
 tells you that it is a new town built in the east after 
 western ideas. The streets are all wide enough for 
 traffic; there is no architecture, but there will be room 
 for it when the day comes. The hinterland is already 
 beautiful. Roads have been made, swamps reclaimed, 
 and the water collected in lakes. The climate favours 
 the growth of trees and grass, and Dalhousie Park is 
 the finest in Asia. Bungalows abound, well-built and 
 surrounded by gardens; residences fit for the country, 
 and much envied by the wretched pilgrim from Bombay. 
 
IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 i^hat we have in Bombay, Rangoon may or will 
 e day possess, fine city buildings. There is progress 
 ady visible. The Hospital, now rising, is a noble 
 cture, and impresses one with the power of a fact 
 )mplished. I recalled, as I looked upon it, the gim- 
 ;k turrets of our Byculla pile; we have travelled far 
 e that was erected. And it is. certain that the growth, 
 ur Anglo-Indian a'rchitecture will some day provide 
 interesting study for archaeologists. I will digress 
 t awhile. 
 
 he problem of the first Anglo-Indian architects was 
 hoose between two courses — ^they might either adapt 
 ian styles to western purposes, or European styles 
 ndian conditions. They chose for the most part — 
 rightly — the latter course. But their first efforts 
 2 not successful. Want of experience, want of talent, 
 t of money, and want of time, these were all against 
 n, and the unlucky taste of a century ago was still in 
 >ur of Greek porticoes. Hence, such failures as the 
 ulla Hospital and the Town Hall of Bombay. It is 
 )ng way from these building^ to the Elphinstone 
 h School and the Municipal Offices. When Bom- 
 's span of life is ended, when she is left, like Bassein, 
 le of ruins, the New Zealand or the Chinese traveller 
 follow with interest this course of progress. He 
 pass sorrowfully over the mistaken ambitions of 
 Victoria Station, but the B.B. and C.I. offices will 
 !r him up. Here and elsewhere, too, in Bombay, 
 ig the regenerate side of Hornby Road, he will find 
 litecture uniting dignity with convenience and duly 
 led with the grace of ornament. He will sniff at 
 commonplace secretariat and smile at our churches, 
 our shops and offices will cost him a sigh. " Here 
 
MADRAS AND BURMA 63 
 
 too," he will say, " the genius of architecture once 
 stirred and woke awhile." 
 
 To return to Burma. The chief sight of Rangoon is 
 the industrial elephants in the timber yards. They will 
 soon cease to be visible, for machinery is going to be 
 found cheaper than elephants, but a few old stagers are 
 still at work. They are best seen in the Chinaman's 
 yard, where they are made more useful than elsewhere. 
 Go then, some morning, to Athlone and watch the veteran 
 at work. Around him are piles of logs, before him are 
 two circular saws. It is his task to feed these saws, and 
 cut the logs up into planks. He understands his busi- 
 ness and needs little talking to. Selecting some huge 
 log he picks it up with his tusks, flings it down before the 
 saw, kicks it into position with his toes, and, screwing 
 up his trunk into a little knob, pushes it forward to the 
 saw. Thereafter he throws the outside pieces away and 
 stacks the timber neatly in its place. He never pauses 
 and never hurries in his work. The space about him is 
 circumscribed, but he never collides with anything, nor 
 gets his trunk mixed up with the bands and saws. The 
 expression of his face is unfathomable. I seemed to see 
 in it a careful interest in his work and a kindly, tolerant 
 attitude towards visitors. I compared him to some ben- 
 evolent uncle showing .tricks to his nephews, full of 
 amusement at their amusement, not unmixed with com- 
 placency. Perhaps also there was some arriere pensee 
 of this kind: " It is a rum thing that a person of my 
 antecedents should be employed in this way. I might 
 knock the whole of this building down if I liked. 
 Why don't I? Why should I? " etc., and so forth. 
 There is a white elephant in the Park, which is not at 
 all white, but does not work and deserves no respect. 
 
64 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 I took no interest in him. The chimpanzee was more 
 pleasing. He lay on his back in a large cage, picking 
 his teeth with a straw, and viewing the people of Burma 
 with languid contemptuous curiosity. 
 
 Mandalay is far inland, you may reach it by rail or 
 river. The approach by river is fine. You pass the 
 older capitals of Ava and Amarapura, gaze on countless 
 pagodas, and catch your, first sight of the high inland 
 mountains. The city itself is found to be a great 
 straggling waste of little houses, unattractive and un- 
 bearably hot in summer. Some sights, however, it 
 possesses, and I will describe them. 
 
 First, the Fort. It is a square enclosure of a inile 
 each way, with a battlemented wall and a moat all round 
 it. In the centre is) a palace, or rather a group of palaces, 
 that belonged to the kings and queens of Burma. Their 
 date is modern, their style t^ondescript. There is 
 nothing that can be called architecture about them. 
 Nevertheless the halls of audience are striking scenes. 
 They are built, as all Burmese houses are built, entirely 
 of wood. When Thebaw's courtiers returned from 
 Europe, they assured him they had seen no such build- 
 ing in that country ; all the kings of Europe lived in 
 palaces of stone or mud. Thebaw smiled with satisfac- 
 tion, and indeed his complacenpy was justified. Where 
 could men have found in Europe those giant teak trees 
 that support his roof? Four feet in girth, fifty feet in 
 height, they rise like a forest of pillars round the visitor, 
 bestowing on Mandalay palace a real and unique dis- 
 tinction. Not Hiram's cedars could have surpassed 
 them, nor the deodars of Kashmir. Had the Moghul 
 architects reached Burma, the mosques of Mandalay 
 would have lowered the pride of Srinagar. As it is. 
 
MADRAS AND BURMA 65 
 
 they have nothing to boast of but materials ; the want of 
 style is supplied by gilding. Every inch of these vast 
 interiors is gilt, for gilding was the privilege of royalty 
 and religion. The effect is sumptuous, you cannot forget 
 that you are standing in the presence chamber of a king. 
 
 Nor did I forget it as often as I went there. The Bur- 
 mese court is not long vanished, and everyone knows 
 what it was like. No king was more absolute than the 
 Burmese king; no court more splendid than his, none 
 where dress and ceremony were more studied or better 
 regulated. The very language of the court was its own, 
 it possessed a whole vocabulary that common people 
 could neither use nor understand. I coOld easily re- 
 people these deserted scenes with prince^ and princesses, 
 ministers and scribes, with courtiers and musicians, and 
 dancing girls of radiant beauty. Then I thought of 
 the summer houste where Thebaw surrendered, and the 
 bungalow at Ratnagherry where once I called on him. 
 And I saw my own countryman holding a durbar on 
 his throne, and I fell a prey to anxious thought. 
 
 To complete my distress of mind I had to endure an 
 American. He was transatlantic in all his ideas, the 
 hereditary foe of England, and warmly he denounced 
 that greedy and unscrupulous land, whose only maxim 
 is va victis ! 
 
 I stood up to him but feebly; however, this is what I 
 said: 
 
 " Take the worst view of our proceedings you please, 
 they are no worse than those of all other countries 
 (except America) where t^eir neighbours' property is 
 concerned. Are not the Japanese the most virtuous race 
 on earth, yet how have they treated the Koreans? Do 
 not the tears stand in your eyes when you read how the 
 
 E 
 
6 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 oor King of Korea was humiliated, and his troops in- 
 ilted and disbanded ? 
 
 " What right has any nation to anything unless they 
 in defend it ? All nations have been conquerors in their 
 ay, even Mr Hardie's friends, the Zulus. They have 
 !1 dra^yn the sword; they cannot claim a forbearance 
 ley never showed., 
 
 " Besides, are we not all socialists nowadays? Do 
 e not all hold that the rich may be fairly stripped of 
 leir riches if they neglect to use them? Shall any 
 ation sit, tight on its wells of oil, and mines of rubies, 
 nd forests of teak, when more active spirits are ready 
 ) develop them? Salus mundi lex suprema. 
 
 " And is the verdict of force unjust? Show me, if 
 ou can, outside the limits of your own country, a war 
 'here the worst cause has triumphed. To sympathise 
 'ith the vanquished is no doubt commendable, especially 
 1 youth, when we should like to hand over Rome to 
 le vengeance of Hannibal, or to see Fitz James chopped 
 ito pieces by Rhoderick Dhu. But it misleads us, if it 
 linds our eyes to the harsh truth, that the causes of 
 lilure in war are cowardice and corruption, disunion 
 nd selfishness." 
 
 I did not urge that the annexation had been a good 
 tiing for Burma, or even that it might have been so 
 itended. He woiild not have believed it; he could not 
 ave believed it; and only within limits do I believe it 
 lyself. Settled conditions of life have opened up 
 Jurma to the kalaw, and the Burmese are unable to 
 ope with him, They are enslaved by Chetties from 
 iladras, expropriated by Tamil agriculturalists, and 
 Ibowed out of ^11 occupations where English is wanted, 
 iVith the rise of prices the rich grow richer and the 
 
MADRAS AND BURMA 67 
 
 poor poorer; the evils of western life appear without 
 those compensations which save the west from chaos. 
 
 It is part of my faith that from the mingling of races 
 and systems all human progress have gone forth. But 
 from the same source has issued, at other times, almost 
 as much evil. To ensure good there must be a spirit 
 of expansion that borrows naturally and truly, and uses 
 what it borrows. We do not know why, at certain 
 times, this spirit shows itself, but we can see that such 
 times do occur (though rarely), and these are the bril- 
 liant periods that redeem existence from failure. We 
 cannot command them to originate, and if we live under 
 other circumstances we can only deplore and patiently 
 endure our case. 
 
 But to return to Mandalay; its sights are not ended 
 with the palace. There is a monastery worth visiting 
 for its 'wood-carving ; and there are the four hundred 
 and fifty pagodas. Here under appropriate canopies 
 the whole of the Buddhist law is visible, inscribed on 
 slabs of stone. This was done by Thebaw's uncle, 
 who was anxious that everybody should know exactly 
 what the sacred text contained. The motive was alike 
 creditable and characteristic of a good Buddhist. The 
 pagodas form a conspicious Object from Mandalay Hill, 
 a height from which Mandalay may conveniently be 
 viewed. 
 
 The most cheerful place in the town is the Zegyo 
 Bazaar. Every town has, of course, its bazaar, and 
 often one with a roof to it; the Zegyo Bazaar is the 
 largest in Burma. Meat, fish, vegetables, grain, all 
 sorts of domestic articles and silks, these are the con- 
 tents of the stalls, and they are not without interest. 
 But the buyers and sellers are more interesting still. 
 
68 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 Nowhere in Burma will you realise better what Burmese 
 people are like. You will be struck by the extreme 
 cleaniness of everything, and the absence of smells, 
 even in the meat market. There you will notice how 
 quiet everybody is. A little bargaining, of course, 
 goes on, but never noisily, and you rarely hear a dis- 
 pute. You are never asked to buy anything. You 
 may go anywhere and look at anything; no one will 
 worry you; and wherever you turn, your eyes will be 
 charmed by the neat figures, the smiles and the bright 
 dresses of the Burmese women. 
 
 But I am anticipating. This delightful topic I am 
 saving for a future page; the present is only the topo- 
 graphical part of my travels. Let us visit the leper 
 asylum at Mandalay. 
 
 There are two leper asylums at Mandalay, Catholic 
 and Protestant. I went in for the Catholic one. It 
 was founded by the exertions of an Austrian priest, 
 Father Wehinger; the present buildings cost three 
 lakhs of ..rupees. About three hundred lepers are 
 maintained there, including some of European extrac- 
 tion, and they are ministered to by a band of twenty- 
 two nuns. Visitors are welcomed, and, as all languages 
 are represented among the nuns, all visitors find them- 
 selves at home. All stages of leprosy may be witnessed 
 in their development, from the first fatal spots to that 
 strange culmination when life clings to a wretch who 
 has neither limbs nor features nor anything human in 
 his form. Passing "" such a one, and feeling as Dante 
 sometimes felt in hell, I asked who he was, and I was 
 told that he was one of the earliest inmates of the home, 
 who had been in his younger days a droll fellow, wont 
 to dance and sing in the streets of Mandalay, to induce 
 
MADRAS AND BURMA 69 
 
 the other lepers to come to the home. But what was 
 life worth to him now? Why not out of kindness 
 with a coup de grace release him ? So I reflected ; yet 
 next day when I came again I learned that on that very 
 morning he had asked for a fried egg for breakfast. 
 Now, if lying there in his darkness and solitude, he could 
 remember such a thing as a fried egg, who shall say 
 his life was not worth living? And if so, not worth 
 preserving? 
 
 The lepers are treated with great kindness, .washed, 
 anointed, and amused, and given a little pocket-money. 
 Thus they are saved from losing themselves altogether ; 
 yet such is their horror of being mere inmates of a home 
 that many of them leave it. How strange a thing human 
 nature is. Here, in Bombay, by the tram-lines, I see 
 many lepers rotting miserably to pieces, whining for 
 alms, starving very likely, yet nothing will induce them 
 to stay in the lepers' home at Matunga. 
 
 It is a pity the Burmese, with all their charity and all 
 their generosity, do not support the Lepers' Asylum. 
 Why not ? If they object to the religion, why don't they 
 start one of their own ? If they are going to take any- 
 thing from the " materialistic " West, let it be some- 
 thing of this kind, which Buddha himself need not 
 have censured. Did I not hear, at the feast in Thabeit- 
 kyn, arhong other deeds of the Buddha, recited, how he 
 came and stayed a pestilence? 
 
 What is it like to be a nun and spend your days 
 washing lepers, attending masses, and meditating? I 
 fancy it pays some better than others. There are some 
 to whom it brings happiness, others who never cease to 
 suffer. You will see in all such bodies of workers some 
 faces that speak of peace, others where there is only 
 
70 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 endurance. Nevertheless, if we look for the highes 
 peace, tlie securest happiness that earth affords, I believ 
 it is in such places that we find it. Fame they desir 
 not, nor does it visit them, save when some literar 
 rogue exploits a Father Damien. Then the newspaper 
 bustle to the scene, the professional writer strings to 
 gether his officious encomiums, and his foolish reader 
 believe that by their approbation they are crowning th 
 minister's work. 
 
 When you are in Mandalay do not neglect Ma Kyn' 
 shop. You will not see it as I saw it, prepared for th 
 Viceroy's visit, the stock mysteriously augmented, th 
 young Ikdies freshly powdered and clothed with a beaut; 
 exceeding that of lilies; but at all times you will fim 
 there curios and carvings, and a pleasant welcome, an( 
 Ma Kyn herself. She is an ex-maid-of-honour, a typ 
 of Burma, where, as you will presently hear, the femal 
 of our speciei^ is. perfect. 
 
 But again I anticipate. At present let me recall th 
 Viceroy's visit, or rather the best part of it, the boat race 
 Among the high lands to the east of Burma there dwel 
 some distant cousins of the Burmese, the Shans, whi 
 on certain lakes of their own, practise a strange manne 
 of rowing. They stand on one foot in their long canoe 
 resting one hand on a rail in the centre, while the othe 
 hand grasps a paddle, round which the other leg i 
 twisted. Somehow they move this paddle to and frc 
 and the boat proceeds swiftly through the water. Ther 
 were races between them' and the Burmans of the deltE 
 on the waters of the Mandalay moat. The Burmans pac 
 died frantically, but the body swing of the Shans carrie 
 all before it. There were tens of thousands of spectators 
 all clothed in the bright Burmese silks; and plenty c 
 
MADRAS AND BURMA 71 
 
 Shans, who exalted mightily in their victories, beatirtg 
 huge drums and dancing with grave composure. 
 
 From Mandalay let us move on to Mogok. Here are 
 the ruby-mines, almost the only ruby-mines in the world. 
 They lie in a little basin high up among the hills, sur- 
 rounded by noble forests. Here nature, in a mood of 
 unaccountable generosity, has turned alumina into 
 rubies. How or when nobody knows, but there in the 
 gravel at the bottom of the basin not only rubies but 
 sapphires and other gems abound. You have only to 
 wash the gravel and pick them out. Mines there are 
 none, as we usually think of them, only pits where 
 Chinese coolies fill little trucks with gravel. There are 
 also pans like motar-mills, where the gravel is washed, 
 and finally a sorting-house. Here European sorters pick 
 out the larger stones, and Chinese after them the smaller. 
 Temptation is removed from the latter by locking their 
 heads in meat-safes. 
 
 The rubies are all conceded to a company, which not 
 only works its owrt pits but lets out land to speculators. 
 You may buy a four-foot patch for twenty rupees per 
 head of you, it is then yours usque ad infer as. Chiefly 
 Chinese it is who pursue this vocation. They sink a 
 sort of well, raising the earth in buckets. Their chief foe 
 is the water, which vexes the company no less than 
 them. The company is boring a tunnel through the 
 mountains, to drain the whole valley; the Chinese rely 
 on pumps. These they make of bamboo, with valves 
 of skin, most ingeniously. The principle is the same 
 as that of western pumps, and has been known for ages 
 in their country. 
 
 Ruby-mining, on the grand scale, is a fairly safe in- 
 dustry, it pays a quiet dividend to investors. On the 
 
72 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 small scale it is a speculation, and one hears wonderful 
 tales of lucky coolies. So, too, in Rangoon, one hears 
 similar tales of men in higher circles. For Rangoon is 
 quite American in its gambling fevers ; there is one com- 
 pany there whose Rs. 50 shares were at Rs. 1300 not long 
 ago. When this sort of thing isgoingon,of course, some 
 people make money, others lose it. . The prizes perhaps 
 go most to the adventurous, such as bore for oil and 
 dredge the Irawadi for gold. The worst of it is, if you 
 pursue these interests you must abandon all others. 
 
 The bazaar at Mogok produces specimens of many 
 interesting people. Shans of all sorts, Palaungs, Pada- 
 ungs, Lishiaws and others, all exhibit themselves in their 
 quaint and beautiful dresses, making their purchases 
 or selling their little products to the townspeople. Fine, 
 healthy-looking people they were — rhany of them re- 
 calling the breezes of their uplands. Not unmoved, I 
 heard th^t the outer world has made itself known among 
 them by the spread of syphilis. 
 
 Their dresses are usually of blue cloth, with red trim- 
 mings, or of black velvet. They are both handsome 
 and practical; and this revived in my mind the question 
 why all that is characteristic in European dress has so 
 completely vanished. In the old books of costume we 
 see that Europe, a hundred years ago, displayed a wide 
 variety of dress; to-day there is not a trace of such 
 variety left. What is the reason of this ? It has never 
 been fully explained. Perhaps, in brief, fashion is re- 
 sponsible, the desire of the lower classes to ape their 
 superiors ; and amongst those superiors the influence of 
 France. The jesthetic loss is enormous. And we can 
 see that a similar loss will occur in Indo-China. Cost 
 will have something to do with it ; machine-made goods 
 
MADRAS AND BURMA 73 
 
 cost less than others. And often they have real con- 
 venience on their side. Reflection might show how to 
 borrow this convenience, without giving up all the older 
 style; but reflection is hard. Unthinking conservatism 
 gives place to unthinking change, and the aesthetic 
 ruin is complete. Vogue la galerel Civilisation, like 
 youth, will not be denied. 
 
 So far I have been speaking of the Shans, and I have 
 not yet began to speak of the Burmese. Let us start, 
 therefore, on the Burmese, considering first who they 
 are. We are assisted in this inquiry by the Burmese 
 chronicle,^ the Maha Rajaweng. From it we learn 
 that the Burmese came from the north, and at one time 
 their blood was mingled with that of certain Kshattriyas 
 from India. They were loosely organised, and founded 
 many kingdoms, at Tagaung and Prome, at Pegu and 
 Pagan. Their rights were disputed by the Shans, the 
 Chinese and the Talaings, and the history of Burma 
 is one of incessant war. The greatest of the early 
 kings was Anoarahta, who triumphed from Bengal to 
 China, and enriched Pagan with a fragment of the 
 sacred tooth from Ceylon. Much later the Talaings 
 had an empire in Pegu, which was completely destroyed 
 about A.D. 1600. Ava and Mandalay are quite modern. 
 
 The history of the past is evinced by the present state 
 of Pagan and Pegu. The secular buildings of Pagan 
 have vanished, but there are thousands of ruined pago- 
 das. Some of these are very large, attaining to cathedral 
 size, and a few are still the resort of worshippers. But 
 the scene is one of desolation ; we may suppose a popu- 
 lation of two hundred thousand citizens has vanished. 
 
 Of Pegu there is not even a trace left. Here in 1500, ac- 
 cording to Venetian travellers, was the centre of a mighty 
 
74 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 kihgdom ; it was utterly swept away by the blast of war. 
 When the railway was made, near the modern village 
 which bears its name, a contractor discovered on the site 
 a colossal statue of Buddha, one hundred and eighty-one 
 feet long, forty-six feet high, so buried in the jungle 
 that no one knew of it. 
 
 Modern sentiment in Burma has apparently forgotten, 
 long since, Anoarahta and Bureng Naung. Perhaps 
 not entirely, for the Burmese are fond of legends, and 
 old peofile know many of them. But what they know, 
 if anything, must be sadly out of piroportion to the 
 achievements of these warriors. Of the Burmese court 
 in the nineteenth century we can only say it was " the 
 shade of that which once was great." To what did it 
 owe its final fate? Partly to the foolish policy of pin- 
 pricks; partly to the approach of France. Like the 
 Thibetan of 1900, it thought proper to play off Great 
 Britain against another European power. Great 
 Britain grew tired of this ; France drew nearer ; and the 
 impracticable Burmese regime disappeared. 
 
 It loses part of our sympathy? when we view its 
 methods clearly. There was no Burmese rule of suc- 
 cession, and every new reign began with a massacre. As 
 Mindon Miri was a potent and long-lived king, he left 
 about thirty sons for Thebawto assassinate, and one has 
 to recall this in conjuring up the past of Mandalay palace. 
 
 There is a tale of the street that when the last war was 
 contemplated, the Bombay Trading Corporation offered 
 to pay the fine inflicted on them if only the war could 
 be averted. There was no Forest Department under 
 Thebaw, and no restrictions on the corporation. In 
 this direction at least good has been done, whether we 
 credit the tale or not. There is another tale that the 
 
MADRAS AND BURMA 75 
 
 agent of the corporation suppressed this offer of theirs, 
 in consideration of a lakh of rupees, which the British 
 Government paid him. Credat Judaeus I It is hard, how- 
 ever, to say how much history has escaped the historian. 
 
 But now let me speak of the Burmese people as they are 
 to-day, at least as I saw them and found them. Candour 
 is required but also self-restraint, for I do not want to 
 
 turn myself into a sentimentalist, like Sir E A , 
 
 or Sir G B , or the sister N , and other 
 
 eminent people. I will be careful, and say nothing if 
 possible that is not sensible. 
 
 In appearance they are a short and somewhat spare 
 race; the physique of the men is often very poor. In- 
 cessant smoking may have something to do with this — 
 though the same cause ought to affect the women as 
 much. The typical colour is a fine yellow, but brown 
 is not uncommon ; evidently the blood of Burma is 
 mixed, and people's features show this as much as the 
 colour. The typical Burmese has the oblique eyes of the 
 Mongolian, but many have the Aryan outlines. I 
 prefer, however, from aesthetic considerations, the Mon- 
 golian type, especially in the women. The men are 
 handsome when they are good specimens; the women, 
 being always good specimens, are always handsome. 
 
 I cannot easily say how handsome they are, nor why 
 one admires them so much. One point in their favour 
 is their extreme cleanliness. Except in the lower 
 classes (and outside the big towns), you never see a 
 dirty Burmese woman. Their dress is a white " coffee- 
 jacket " tightly fitting with broad sleeves, and their 
 nether parts are enclosed in a single petticoat of bright 
 silk. This, also, is tightly fitting, and the neat little 
 figure of the Burmese lady is seen to great advantage. 
 
76 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 Jewels she wears cautiously, neither nosevring nor toe- 
 rings, and bracelets, if any, only gold. Her hair is 
 piled into a glossy cone, adorned with a few flowers ; 
 her face powerqd, perhaps too freely, with thandka. 
 Her features,, in repose, sometimes assume a sullen 
 cast ; but as a rule they are simply soothing, their large 
 round curves have a mesmerising power over the mind. 
 They can, hoWever, light up in a moment^ with bewitch- 
 ing smiles, and not for long does any true child of Burma 
 refuse to smile. Though the custom of the country 
 permits men and women to mingle, yet Burmese ladies 
 do often move about together, and the sight of them 
 passing before your eyes is like that nepenthe which 
 Helen mixed in Telemachus' wine. And their children 
 that go with them are like fairies. Their hair is combed 
 all round their heads into a fringe, or gathered into a 
 little palm tree on the summit. Of all children in the 
 world to-day they are the most child-like. Long may it 
 be before education makes them other! 
 
 In point of manners the Burmese are the first of all 
 people in the world. East and West. They are not 
 rude to each other nor to strangers. Their bearing 
 is quiet and restrained; they do not stare at foreigners 
 nor in any way molest them. Indeed the foreigner may 
 be perfectly at his ease amongst them. To begin with, 
 they do not cheat him. The first thing that happened 
 to me in Rangoon was that I bought a bottle of soda- 
 water; the vendor, an Indian, demanded four annas for 
 it, and a Burman interposed on my behalf. This was my 
 experience throughout ; is it a small matter ? I can go 
 on to great' matters ; not only honesty but liberal gene- 
 rosity is the first principle of these people's disposition. 
 Their first thought is whaf they can do for you. Every- 
 
MADRAS AND BURMA 77 
 
 where in the jungle -you may count on hospitality. For 
 three days, it is said, you may stay in any Burmese 
 house and they will feed you and entertain you, without 
 asking who you are. I never made such a demand upon 
 them, but I believe it would have been met. 
 
 Once near Amarapura I heard a sort of yell proceeding 
 from a thicket ; pausing and listening I surmised a village 
 and a school. Following up the sound I found them 
 both. The village was be-thicketed and palisaded, a 
 relic of the dacoit's times, and all its buildings were 
 crowded into a little circle. There were the girls weav- 
 ing silks, the blacksmith forging a crank, and in the 
 midst the indigenous school. I ascended into the house 
 and surveyed it. The children were all crouched on 
 their knees and elbows, their books lying on the ground; 
 and they were all shrieking together, learning the com- 
 plicated Burmese system of spelling. Near them (not 
 unarmed) sat the old lady who conducted the school, to 
 whom I introduced myself, by signs, of course ; we could 
 do nothing but smile at each other. The class was sus- 
 pended; tea and plantains and hard boiled eggs were 
 introduced, followed by cheroots. Other visitors drop- 
 ped in, and a couple of hours passed by. The children 
 were most pleasing; they wore that air of roguish 
 innocence which is dear to the withered heart of age; I 
 could have stayed there for ever. As I wound my way 
 back through the jungle, I thought: " Here is, at any 
 rate, enjoyment, more than in yon march of mind. 
 What shall we gain if we substitute the rattle and roar 
 of a factory for the village girls and the hand-loom? 
 Since evil attends progress with equal steps, could it 
 not be fought as fairly on this plane as on any other? 
 Granted these people have their own suffering, is not this 
 
78 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 life at its best as goqd as any ? Religion is not absent, 
 nor art, should we not be satisfied? " 
 
 I recalled this incident, however, as an example of 
 Burman generosity ; one meets it everywhere, esfjecially 
 in their religious observances. Once a year a feast is 
 given to Buddha or to the nats in the temples, a splendid 
 banquet is laid out. The very best cake and fruit are 
 piled up mountains high, in appetising splendour. 
 For a day or two they are left before the gods ; then they 
 vanish. You might think they would be privately 
 eaten. Not so. No Buddhist presumes to touch them ; 
 they vanish, and, I believe, dogs, temple slaves, and the 
 poorest sort of beggars enjoy theni. In every direction 
 the Burmese support their faith most liberally, not be- 
 cause any priests worry or alalrm them, nor even through 
 a sordid computation of merit gained, but because 
 liberality is their habit of mind. 
 
 A stranger must also esteeip highly their affability 
 and accessibility. Everything is open, temples and 
 houses alike ; there are no barriers anywhere. This has 
 a good effect on your own mind. You feel ashamed of 
 your own prejudices, and I think my own countrymen 
 haye laid some of these aside in Burma. Certainly they 
 think well and speak well of the Burmese — even affec- 
 tionately. I was mightily surprised at this ; I have seen 
 quite commonplace people grow sentimental when thej 
 spoke of Burma, and in illustration hereof, you may reac 
 this little poem from the corner of a local paper : 
 
 A Strangulation. 
 
 " I'd a dream of dear old Burma, 
 And a kind of longings come 
 For the doorian and the jack-fruit 
 When the bees in Spring-tide hum. 
 
MADRAS AND BURMA 79 
 
 And I see the meingales wading 
 
 Through the moist and sandy loam 
 
 Bringing up their pots of water 
 To their modest bambo6-home. 
 
 And its wilds they keep acalling 
 
 Through the forest's leafy crown, 
 ' Come and hunt the tsaing and bison 
 
 'Mid our leaves so green and brown.' 
 And I listen for the footsteps 
 
 Of the lanpya and hmokso, 
 Sounding down from off the dead leaves 
 
 Of the yeairs of long ago." 
 
 K. Y. 
 
 I think I know who wrote that poem. He was not a 
 
 « 
 habitual poet, but customary feeling, finding expression 
 
 in a rare moment, inspired him with the verses. 
 
 The relations of the sexes are an interesting and pleas- 
 ing study. There is no seclusion of women, though 
 young, unmarried girls, after leaving school, do not go 
 about by themselves, and remain a great deal at home. 
 Married women, apparently, converse freely with men 
 other than their husbands, and though women have 
 many parties of their own, \ and may often be seen in 
 groups together, gatherings of both ^exes are common. 
 In these, the most perfect decorum prevails, you will see 
 no horse-play, no romping anywhere. Good manners 
 are universal. The demeanour of the woman is at once 
 frank and modest; they have a great deal of aplomb, 
 but no unseasonable shyness. There is nothing of the 
 startled fawn about them. Once when I was sitting on 
 Mandalay Hill, a party of women came up to enjoy the 
 view, and one qf them borrowed my field-glass. She 
 approached with perfect self-possession, politely in- 
 dicated the glasses and retired with theni. 
 
 I thought to myself, it is not surprising that foreigners 
 
80 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 marry Burmese wives. They still do so ; and they still 
 maintain them par amours. When first we entered the 
 country there was not an officer but did so, and these 
 unions were by no means vulgar or degrading. They 
 brought with them, however, as a problem of the future, 
 the Eurasian, and»they led to suspicions of administra- 
 tive corruption; for which reason they were forbidden, 
 and now among officials they are scarce. Marriages, 
 of course, are not prohibited and still take place. 
 
 Among the Burmese, marriage is an affair of the heart, 
 and matrimony is preceded by courtship. Sometimes 
 this leads to indiscretions, but not, as I was told, very 
 often. Burmese girls are able to take care of themselves 
 Unhappy passions, of course, arise; women sometimes 
 run after actors, and sometimes disappointment is fol- 
 lowed by a vow of perpetual chastity. A maiden lady 
 was pointed out to me in Mokog, who had remained 
 faithful to her first love. 
 
 To all this must be added that Burmese women are 
 extremely practical. Almost all the business of the 
 country is carried on by them. There was a lady broker 
 in Rangoon who died not long ago worth many lakhs. 
 The men resign almost everything to them and live 
 quietly on their share of the proceeds. 
 
 Burma is thus for the sociologist a remarkable study. 
 It seems to have approached a new ideal of society based 
 on the predominance of the female. I have sometimes 
 wondered if such a reconstruction of human life is really 
 possible or probably. Has not something of the kind 
 occurred in America? And what forbids it that the 
 horde and the matriarchal and patriarchal states should 
 be followed by something new ? What about the drones 
 in the hive; may we not yet see our males confined to 
 
MADRAS AND BURMA 81 
 
 ornamental and procreative functions, selected by com- 
 mittees of female, experts, reared on non-alcoholic diet, 
 and anaesthicised at forty? 
 
 Burma, however, has not got as far as that yet. But 
 it is a serious evil for the country that men take existence 
 so lightly. Though not incapable of hard work they 
 are quite incapable of steady work, they evade responsi- 
 bilities and let all opportunities pass by them. This is 
 why three thousand Tamils settle in their country every 
 month, besides many Chinese. Mixed marriages are 
 common and are transforming the race. It is agreed on 
 every hknd that the hybrid Aryan and Mongolian is un- 
 satisfactory, that the best hope for the future lies in the 
 union of Burmese and Chinese. I will say a word, 
 therefore, of the Chinaman. 
 
 I made his acquaintance first of all in Burma. He 
 
 penetrates the country overland from the north at Bhanio, 
 
 and sea-borne at Rangoon. He is generally engaged in 
 
 business as a shopkeeper or artisan, while the Tamil 
 
 takes to coolie work or agriculture. His physique is 
 
 good, and his morals are well spoken of. He is orderly, 
 
 very industrious, honest and fairly clean. He respects 
 
 municipal regulations, and makes a good husband and 
 
 father. For this reason the Burmese girl readjly marries 
 
 him and the marriage turns out well. His fault is 
 
 gambling. At Bhamo, in the Chinese street, strolling 
 
 up there one evening after dark, I saw little groups of 
 
 Chinese children sitting on the ground, with lines drawn 
 
 in the soil, gambling for nuts. They were often not 
 
 more than four years old; their chubby fingers could 
 
 scarcely hold the dice-box or move the niits about, but 
 
 t 
 their faces, lit up by the candles round them, were full of 
 
 serious interest and attention. " Train up a child," 
 
82 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 etc., etc. Solomon would have rejoiced at the sight. 
 The full-grown Chinaman is an inveterate gambler, so 
 is the Burman, and the pastime leads to many fatal 
 quarrels. 
 
 Still, the Chinaman is no weakling, and I feel sure that 
 much of the future belongs to him. I have discovered 
 that Europeans from the Far East think better of him 
 than of the Japanese ; especially, they find him more 
 honest. It does not appear that the Chinese and Japa- 
 nese love each other, and tlie future re-arrangement of 
 forces in the East is a thing that no one can foresee. As 
 the various races concerned cannot all fight each other at 
 once, they will have to make up sides somehow, and 
 there is no reason to doubt that we may some day see the 
 Russians and Japanese comrades in arms. This will 
 not be on any ground of friendship, for there is no 
 friendship between nations. But the play of interests 
 may bring anything to pass. 
 
 In the meantime, the various communities of Burma 
 offer many notable contrasts. They all live side by side 
 in Rangoon. Chinese, Europeans, Burmese, Tamils, 
 and Mohammedans, they have their own quarters and 
 their own societies. The Indians are known to the 
 Burmese as kalaws or foreigners, to the Europeans as 
 " natives." I did not ascertain what corresponds to 
 " Feringhi " in Burmese. 
 
 Passing on to speak of a few customs, I will note that 
 the Burmese food is the only thing about the people that 
 is repellent. They consume, in large quantities, a cer- 
 tain fish paste, called gnape, which to English people is 
 neither more nor less than rotten fish. The Burmese 
 retort on us our cheese, which they loathe. We then 
 complain of their pickled tea, which looks abominable. 
 
MADRAS AND BURMA 83 
 
 I did not try it. The ordinary wild tea of the hills as 
 made in pots, I found agreeable enough. 
 
 As a sort of addition to thfeir dress most men are 
 tattooed from their waist to their knees. The pattern is 
 made up of gryphpns and dragons, artificially disposed 
 in clusters. It looks extremely well, and a few English 
 people have been known to assume it. 
 
 Amusing and picturesque festivals abound-;— all 
 marked by the same open generosity towards visitors. I 
 did not see a boy hpoongyfied, nor a girl get her ears 
 bored — one is boynd to miss something — ^but I saw a 
 grand distribution of presents to hpoongyis at Thabeit- 
 kyn. This occurs once a year. An alley of bamboo 
 lattice-work is made, and the people bring their presents 
 and stand outside it, with their presents piled up. I 
 dare say some arrangement is come to as to what each 
 shall bring. One has packets of candles, another boxes 
 of matches, another brass vessels, and so on. The 
 donorsi are almost all women, and everyone wears her 
 best dress. Presently the monks make their appearance 
 each attended by a boy with a large basket; they pass 
 down the alley in single file, and each basket is gra- 
 dually filled with presents. After the procession comes 
 a trio of masqueraders, with their faces blackened, 
 dancing to comic music; they carry off anything not 
 distributed, amid general laughter. I have not yet re- 
 marked how blithe a people the Burmese are; light- 
 hearted mirth is the tenor of their lives. 
 
 The great secular entertainment is the pive. This is 
 always more or less dramatic, and includes elements of 
 all sorts of drama ; it is " tragical-historical-comical-pas- 
 toral " as Polonius says. It is operatic too, being 
 always accompanied by music and dancing. There is 
 
84 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 only a vistage of a plot; some love affair of a prince; 
 
 • 
 
 the serious scenes ar6 followed by comic interludes. , 
 They would have suited Polonius well if, as Hamlet 
 says, he was " for a jig or a tale of bawdry." The jokes 
 I am told, are indecorous ; but I seldom could get them 
 translated. Here is the worst specimen I encountered; 
 I do not think the Pink 'un would refuse to print it. 
 The clown attempts to embrace the princess ; meeting of 
 course, with repulse, he retires to a corner and is observed 
 to be slyly licking his fingers. "What are you 
 doing? " says some one; " I am enjoying something nice 
 here!" "What is it?" "Some milk from this- 
 virgin's breasts ! " 
 
 The clowns are masters of their art, and the dancing 
 according to its own rules very, pretty. It is, however, 
 too sinuous for European taste, though Europ^eans do 
 enjoy it and sometimes spend the evening at Pwes. 
 The Burmese never grow weary of them. The perfor- 
 mance (which is generally free) goes on all night with- 
 out stopping. Should Europeans be present, some 
 fragments of English songs will greet their ears, and 
 it will please everybody if they make a small present to 
 the performers. You will not be asked for it, but be- 
 think yourself, reader, how, hard the life of the strolling 
 player is ; and if you • are pleased with the performance 
 beckon to you the princess, who will come attended by 
 the clown and kneel to you most gracefully and touch- 
 ingly ; you will not refuse her two rupees and you will 
 enjoy some public compliments on your generosity. 
 
 As for the music, it is Wagnerian. The instruments 
 are circles of drums and circles of gongs, trumpets and 
 wooden clappers. , Fragments of tunes emerge, some not 
 unpleasing, but the uproar is often deafening. At criti- 
 
MADRAS AND BURMA 85 
 
 cal moments the orchestra suddenly rise and shout 
 "Splendid!" "Splendid!" "I never heard any- 
 thing like it." 
 
 Pass we on from the amusements of Burma to the 
 religious faith of the land. As everyone knows that is 
 Buddhism. But what is Buddhism ? 
 
 Like all names which are borne by religious systems, 
 it is tiresome and misleading, and tells us nothing of its 
 nature. And history, when appealed to, does not tell 
 us much more; the origin of Buddhism, like its fall, is 
 obscure ; and the exact teachings of Buddha are matters 
 of dispute. My own notion is this — that Buddhism is 
 really a racial affair and arose from the protests of 
 foreigners— possibly non-Aryans — against the ritual and 
 metaphysics of Hinduism. Buddhism, perhaps, at 
 bottom, is sprung from the same source as Confucian- 
 ism — ^both ethical and both atheistic, or tending to 
 atheism. As the racial impulse that moved it died away, 
 Buddhism died away too and Hinduism re-asserted itself. 
 
 Be this as it may, the system' of Buddha seems fairly 
 clear. Individuality and evil are bound up together; 
 destroy one, you destroy the other, preserve one and 
 inevitably you preserve the other. The true path, 
 therefore, is forget ourselves in doing good to others. 
 Buddha did not, like the Jains, allow self-annihilation. 
 Be it a true insight, or a noble inconsistency, he diverted 
 the desire for annihilation into the, course of charity. 
 His system has no sallekhana. On the contrary, it 
 easily associates itself with the splendours of a court and 
 a daily life that is blithe and cheerful. Thus we see it 
 in Burma. 
 
 Its reality there is fevinced by the vast number of 
 temples, monasteries, and the constant practice of wor- 
 
86 IK FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 ship by all classes of people. Let us speak of them 
 briefly in turn. A Buddhist temple is really a memorial 
 of Buddha. In its most satisfying form this will be a 
 mound heaped over some relie of his person ; but fail- 
 ing this an imitation of such a moijnd may be con- 
 structed. An image of Buddha may also be ierected. In 
 practice the two are always found together — the dagoba 
 and the image. Architecturally, dagobas usually re- 
 senible an inverted bell, with the handle rising in the air. 
 
 The curves of the sides sink inwards, and this is 
 annoying to 'European eyes, accustomed to the swelling 
 outlines of domes. However, one grows used to it, and 
 the best dagobas are found to possess sufficient grace 
 and dignity. The largest in Burma is the Shwe Dagon 
 at Rangoon,' which stands three hundred and seventy 
 feet high. It is gilt from base to summit, and shines 
 out in the sky for miles. At its base is a large plat- 
 form, where many small dagobas stand, and many 
 temples with marble images of Buddha. These are 
 often beautiful shrines, enriched with magnificent carv- 
 ing; the images, without exception, are lifeless \dolls. 
 Still, the effect of the whole is exceedingly beautiful ; as 
 a' cro^) d'ceil it is one of the most striking scenes in the 
 world. Unfortunately, galvanised iron has. begun to 
 show itself in the repairs, with divers other vulgarities 
 from the west, and a few years will see its charm 
 mysteriously vanishing. It seems to me a pity the 
 trustees, who are all Burmese, should not take the advice 
 of Europeans about the introduction of these western 
 features. They might allow them a negative voice on 
 proposals for innovations; it is certain they would be 
 saved from errOrs of taste. 
 
 Dagobas abound everywhere ini Burma. There is 
 
MADRAS AND BURMA 87 
 
 scarcely a hill-top that is not crowned by one, and the 
 whole land is thus a silent witness to its faith. This is 
 a beautiful effect and a sufficient reward for a labour 
 that sometimes seems wasted. Of course these struc- 
 tures are not all in perfect repair, but it is wonderful 
 how many of them are, and how assiduously the Bur- 
 mese restore the most important of them. 
 
 The worship that goes on at the place is very simple. 
 There is no regular service; there are no prayers to be 
 offered, and all the worshippers can do is to salute the 
 image and say: " I take refuge on the Law." A few 
 other forms of words there are, but all, as I understand, 
 in the nature of creeds. At certain times in the year 
 meetings are arranged at which tales about Buddha are 
 told and homilies recited by such as know them. I was 
 present on such an occasion at Thabeitkyn, the meeting 
 reminded me of a Quaker's gathering, men and women 
 sat separately on the ground and one after another 
 spoke in turn. There was no " service," and, of 
 course, there was no such person as a priest. 
 
 At other times there are grand illuminations of the 
 pagodas, especially after the Buddhist Lent. This 
 occurred in October last year; I saw the Shwe Dagon 
 lit 'up. It was a glorious sight. Party after party 
 arrived, bringing with them their candles, which they 
 stuck up on the ground or in corners of the buildings 
 and lighted. There were many thousands of candles 
 blazing together, and by their light one could watch the 
 worshippers. With a wonderful mixture of gaiety and 
 decorum they folded their hands and bowed, and after- 
 wards lit their cheroots, and sat and watched their 
 candles burn. Meanwhile, other parties walked round 
 the pagoda, sometimes listening to a little quiet music. 
 
88 IN FOREIGlIf LANDS 
 
 I joined one such party and walked round the pagoda 
 myself. The peace and cleanliness, the beauty of the 
 Burmese ladies and their dresses, the delightful airs of 
 the children, all these affected me so much that I de- 
 cided to spend the night there, dismissing, as an un- 
 worthy consideration, the excellent dinner then prepar- 
 ing at the Strand Hotel. Just, however, as I had taken 
 this decision, there was a conglomeration of people at 
 one corner of the platform which I felt bound to inquire 
 into. Perceiving a Sikh policeman about, I asked him 
 what was the matter. " They have arrested a hpoongyi 
 for stealing oil," said he; " these hpoongyis are all 
 thieves." Whether he spoke the truth or not, the 
 incident broke the spell Of my romance and I returned to 
 the Strand Hotel and ate hiy dinner. 
 
 The subject of hpoongyis is now introduced. A 
 hpoongyi or monk is a man who has decided to devote 
 himself to a life of strict virtue, and who has taken 
 certain vows accordingly. The formula for his ordina- 
 tion contains many interesting points. He must be a 
 suitable person. " Art thou sprung from dwarfs? " he 
 is askedy " or under the influence of sorcerers or nats of 
 the woods and mountains? " If found acceptable on 
 these and other points he must formally renounce 'the 
 self-seeking life. " Thou shalt turn to seek such things 
 as men cast awa!y; thou shalt search for healing 
 qualities in simples where no such virtue is supposed to 
 exist." "It is forbidden thee to steal. He who is 
 guilty of such a crime can no more be restored to his 
 pristine state of purity than the blasted tree can bud 
 anew and bear fresh flowers and fruit. Remember, 
 therefore, O candidate, and through thy mortal journey 
 beware of theft? " 
 
MADRAS AND BIJIIMA 89 
 
 The monks of the present day, it appears to me, live 
 fairly up to the spirit of their creed. Allowance must be 
 made for the scoundrels who enter monasteries to avoid 
 the police ; the genuine monks cannot, I suppose, de- 
 tect such, and are bound by their rules to be hospitable. 
 But the greater part of them bear a good name and 
 appear, in a curious way, to present this virtue. I say 
 in a curious way, because, being a European, I hold 
 with X)r Watts that Satan generally finds work for idle 
 hands, and monks are, for the most part, absolutely idle. 
 It is indeed amazing that any set of men can endure to 
 be as idle as they are, and that being so idle they should 
 not be sunk in the lowest depths of vice. However, as 
 it appears, this is not the case. 
 
 Their principle task is to collect in the morning their 
 one meal of the day. For this purpose they go forth 
 in a solemn file, each bearing a lacquer bowl, and pur- 
 sue their accustomed round. One of their number 
 strikes a gong, and various housewives, hearing the 
 sound, turn out with basins of steaming rice. They give 
 a spoonful to each monk, who receives it in silence and 
 passes on. When they return to the monastery the rice 
 is eaten ; it is the only meal of the day. Tobacco is 
 proscribed; but betel is allowed, and with many monks 
 the mastication thereof is the only form of occupation 
 or exercise. Others there are who keep schools. The 
 primary schools of Burma are the one service the country 
 receives from the monks. They do not cultivate any 
 learning, and they do not preside at religious services. 
 People do not often visit the monasteries, and the monks 
 do not attend village festivals. 
 
 It will be seen that they do not much correspond to 
 the priests of the Roman Church, and this point is worth 
 
90 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 making. Years ago, in Ceylon, I was struck by some 
 points of resemblance between Buddhism and the sys- 
 tem of Rome. Reflection, however, has shown me that 
 though interesting they were quite external, such as the 
 use of rosaries; the central points of the two systems 
 are widely different. The Buddhist monk, except in 
 his robe and his tonsure, does not resemble the Roman 
 priest. The Buddhist nun more closely resembles the 
 Roman nun because she has no spiritual office. Nuns 
 are much fewer in number than monks, and wear a 
 lighter coloured robe. That of the monks is an ugly 
 yellow. 
 
 Every Burman once in his life becomes a monk and 
 wears the yellow robe, if only for three days. This 
 forms a grand episode in the life of a schoolboy and is 
 celebrated with much pomp. What the motives are 
 that lead other men to become monks I cannot say, not 
 horror of the world, I should think, but a distaste for ac- 
 tive life and responsibilities. This is ingrained in the 
 Burmese, even when they are not monks, and when it 
 reaches a certain point seems to lead to the monastery. 
 
 Accordingly, while there is nothing repulsive about a 
 Burmese monastery, one feels that the monastic life is 
 not wanted in the country and does no good. That 
 is to say, if we do right to care for such " material " 
 things as knowledge. But the Buddhist view is differ- 
 ent. Life is conceived as a mere necessity, to be en- 
 dured as easily as possibly while it lasts ; the great object 
 is to avoid pain to ourselves and others, to find a 
 shelter from the storm, of the world. This may or may 
 not have been what Buddha meant; it appears to be 
 what Buddhism means to its followers. 
 
 Like Islam, Buddhism has no sentiment of caste. 
 
MADRAS AND BURMA 91 
 
 Much evidence of this meets the eye in Burma, especially 
 over the use of water. You will often see opposite a 
 Burmese house pots of water placed under a little roof, 
 for the use of travellers. Ladles of cocoanut shells are 
 provided and anyone is welcome to use them. You 
 may be sure that the water is daily renewed and is the 
 best the neighbourhood affords. A quainter illustration 
 of the national feeling is the practice of passing cheroot 
 from one month to another. As Buddhism forbids 
 the taking of animal life, it might be expected that all 
 Burmese would be vegetarians. Far from it, most of 
 them eat flesh and fish, especially fish, and so long as 
 they do not kill the creatures themselves they do not 
 mind who does so. Mohammedans and others earn a 
 living in this way. With regard to fish even the Bur- 
 mese may catch them, because the fisherman does not 
 kill fish ; he takes them out of the water and they die 
 of themselves. So we all have our eccentricities ; and it 
 has been observed, even in Scotland, that Sabbatarians 
 do not scruple to read Monday's newspapers. 
 
 Buddhism, however, is only half the religion of 
 Burma ; the other half is the worship of nats. Nats are 
 spirits — the spirits of the dead, knd those which are 
 worshipped are the spirits of the illustrious dead. 
 Thirty-seven of these are recognised scions of old royal 
 families, who perished by unhappy deaths. Images are 
 made of them, offerings are laid before them, and their 
 advice and protection are implored. 
 
 Buddha would not have countenanced this. He 
 allowed no spirit worship and no sort of divination. 
 " The holy professors of our religion are strictly for- 
 bidden to arrogate to themselves on account of the 
 sanctity of their profession or pretend to be endowed 
 
92 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 with any supernatural gift whatever." I believe the 
 monks respect this order; common people do not, and 
 witches and wizards abound among them. 
 
 I visited more than one witch (nathkadaw) myself- 
 Such a person will be found in a neat and clean little 
 hut surrounded by gilt images aind flowers. You will 
 intimate that you wish to speak to one 'of the nats, and 
 she will take proceedings to summon him. Joining her 
 palms she utters a rapiid invocation, opens her mouth 
 with a dismal yawn, and through that orifice, we may 
 suppose, admits the nat. Her body and voice then 
 assume a change, and conform themselves to the spirit 
 that tenants them. One nathkadaw, whom I saw, be- 
 came as it were a child of three, speaking wfth the voice 
 and wearing the features of such a child. She soon 
 afterwards summoned up a roystering prince and stag- 
 gered about the room in a fit of drunkenness. 
 
 These spirits, duly propitiated, are willing to answer 
 questions regarding the present, past, and future. My 
 experience is that most of the answers about the past 
 are false, while some few are disagreeably true. Of their 
 predictions I shall be able to report later on. 
 
 There are other ways in which they show themselves. 
 You may find that a nathkadaw has a, little cradle in her 
 parlour, where a baby sometimes sits and swings. 
 Clairvoyant eyes can see the nat ; others only the cradle 
 swinging. And once when I was at Moulmein I was 
 present at a visitation of nats — on this wise. There 
 is a certain pagoda in the centre of Moulmein^ crown- 
 ing a hill, commanding a view of incomparable beauty 
 by sea and land. I had gone there to enjoy the view, 
 when I found a large picnic of Burmese in progress. 
 They had subscribed for a new thi for the pagoda and 
 
MADRAS AND BURMA 93 
 
 had come to put it on. This took them the whole day, 
 for they worked very slowly, smoking cheroots and en- 
 joying endless jokes, while tea and light refreshments 
 were handed round. I signified th&t I should like to 
 join the party, which was permitted, and I sat drinking 
 tea contentedly. Suddenly one of the women began to 
 dance in a strange drunken kind of manner; it seems 
 One of the town nats had descended upon her. She 
 danced — with assistance — up a lot of steps to the 
 pagoda, and presently offered some leaves and plantains 
 to the nat; he was satisfied therewith and departed. 
 
 The great home of nats is Mount Popa, the Fujiyama 
 of Burma. It is a volcanic cone, standing amid a vast 
 plain. I did not reach it myself, but heard many tales 
 how the nats prevail mighti^ly there. If the passer-by 
 dismounts not before their shrines they tie him up with 
 invisible ropes which leave marks on his body for many 
 days. 
 
 Burmese art I found a disappointment. There are 
 few traces of the Chinese genius, though just a little 
 there is to remind us that we are in contact with one 
 of the great artistic styles. The best wood-carving is 
 bold and true, : though unfinished. The images of 
 Buddha are almost all insipid. The bells and gongs 
 are below those of the Far East. The outlines of the 
 best pagodas are satisfactory ; the Shwe Dagon is a 
 masterpiece in its own style. 
 
 Better art-work may be found amid the Shans, and I 
 treasure up some knives and a teapot as relics of these 
 interesting people. Some day, perhaps, I shall see most 
 of them and more also of the Kiarens — in some ways 
 the most remarkable people in Burma. 
 
 The Karens were till lately a jungly — ^^almost a de- 
 
94 IN FOBEIGN LANDS 
 
 pressed — race. Lately, however, "with a sudden impulse 
 about half of them embraced Christianity, and with s< 
 much vigour that they have quite an organii^ation o; 
 their own. They have also the credit of having startec 
 the first Christian heresy that Asia has seen for fifteer 
 hundred years. It came about in this wise. The nam< 
 for " Christ " in their language is identified with the 
 name for a bow, Klebo; and some original fellow sug- 
 gested that Noah's rainbow was a type of Christ and 
 should for reason be worshipped. Accordingly he de- 
 vised a ceremony for that purpose, and started a church 
 of his own, which has given missionaries of every 
 sort much trouble. 
 
 I spoke of this as an original heresy, but the fact is it 
 was really an off-shoot of the " God-langiiage " heresy 
 of Mrs Mason. This lady was an American, who 
 claimed to have discovered the tongue spoken in Para- 
 dise. Fragments of this were embodied in all exist- 
 ing tongues and she busied herself in finding them out. 
 She also had an allegorical interpretation of the archi- 
 tecture of the pagoda. To construct a pagoda, it 
 seems, you first draw a square, and then inscribe a 
 circle in it. Now the circle is the mystic emblem of 
 immortality ; the square, of rectitude ; clearly, therefore, 
 the plan of a pagoda signifies that men's hopes of im- 
 mortality are based on rectitude, and so forth. This 
 interpretation pleased the Karens .mightily, and she drew 
 away some thousands of them. 
 
 For my part, I remember the Karens for their sing- 
 ing. At the Karen school in Rangoon you may hear it 
 to perfection, both in the Burmese and the English 
 styles. The taste for music is universal among them, 
 and their voices are marvellous. They remind one of 
 
MADRAS ANB BURMA 95 
 
 the best Welsh choirs, in strength, purity and delicacy 
 of tone. Who could have believed such a thing ? And 
 the Karens are a dull people intellectiially — not belying 
 their looks therein. 
 
 I am now almost come to the end of my tale. The 
 music of the Karens was the last thing I heard or saw 
 in Burma, and soon afterwards I found myself on the 
 deck of the s.s. Pentakotta gazing sorrowfully at the 
 stranid of the Irawadi. Burma is one of the few 
 countries that repay the traveller both in interest and 
 pleasure. 
 
 These are not the same thing. In ^travelling there is 
 always something in the way of interest, but it may not 
 be pleasant. It is interesting to observe the strange 
 ways of mankind, and the diversity of their sentiments. 
 It is interesting to compare the patriot and the rene- 
 gade, and to watch the animosities of race, and class, 
 and creed, and colour; the odium theosophicum and the 
 furor theologicus. It is a rarer felicity to meet awhile 
 men that we like. 
 
 There is, I believe, an old Greek who has put this 
 forward as the main end of travel, to meet the theioi 
 andres, the divine men, who are scattered here and 
 there on the earth. These are the men from whom you 
 can learn something; who are also willing to teach you, 
 who mean what they say, who are willing to oblige and 
 perform their promises. Few, indeed, they are, but 
 occasionally one meets them. 
 
 Of fellow-travellers one meets many; this is an age 
 of travellers. On one of the Irawadi steamers I 
 fared together with a man who had been round the 
 world twenty-one times, and a boy, not yet four years 
 old, who had been round it thrice. What a strange 
 
96 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 education to be thus, as it were, brought up on the 
 wing! 
 
 Of the discomforts of travel I have written elsewhere. 
 In Burma the Anglo-Indian suffers from the loss of 
 his boy. Like the hermit crab without his shell he is 
 then perplexed indeed. He has to pick up a local boy 
 and take his chance. I will relate what happened to 
 me. 
 
 I started with a boy engaged in Madras. His re- 
 muneration (on the Burman scale) was to be twenty-five 
 rupees a month with eight annas a day travelling allow- 
 ance; and immediately on his engagement he requested 
 a month's pay in advance. As money is an argument 
 which his tribe understand I consented to this advance, 
 and he journeyed with me to Rangoon. There his first 
 step was to ascertain the date of my departure ; his next, 
 to take a day's leave to visit his brother; and his next, 
 to inform me that while he was eating his first meal 
 ashore his pocket had been picked of all his money. I 
 threw some doubt on this episode, and he, assuming an 
 injured air, replied, " I never telling lie like that, putting 
 coat here, eating rice, so, and somebody coming," etc., 
 etc., with convincing detail of illustration. Reflection 
 persuaded me to replenish him with five rupees, after 
 which he departed. I was somewhat relieved when he 
 did not return next d!ay, and* repairing to Messrs. 
 T. Cook & Son, I asked them for a good travelling ser- 
 vant:. One forthwith they sent me, a tall military man 
 with an iron-grey moustache, upright, well-dressed, and 
 proficient in English. I saw at once that I was not fit 
 to serve under such a one, but, dissembling for a moment, 
 I asked for his testimonials and his terms. As for the 
 testimonials the first of them was from the Duchess of 
 
MADRAS AND BURMA 97 
 
 Sutherland.; his terms were forty-five rupees a month, 
 travelling allowance, an outfit of clothes, a nice present 
 in view, and a younger man to run about for him. I did 
 not quarrel with this aristocratic menial, but I respect- 
 fully pointed out that I was not a nobleman myself, and 
 I thought some friend or dependent of his would suit me 
 better. He thought so too, and offered, if I would give 
 him eight annas for a carriage, to produce one, which 
 accordingly he did. 
 
 His friend proved a useful servant except that he 
 drank too much, and his charges, even for Burma, 
 seemed a trifle high. Towards the end of our time, I 
 sent him to buy some brooms, of a kind peculiar to 
 Burma, and so attractive that they make sweeping a fine 
 art and I have swept my own room with one ever since. 
 He charged me seven annas each for them, and on my re- 
 monstrating he explained that in order to procure these 
 brooms particularly cheap he had been to the distant 
 suburb of Kemendine to buy them. I subtly held my 
 peace, but repaired to a Chinaman's shop in the neigh- 
 bourhood and bought one myself for the price the 
 Chinaman asked, to wit, two annas. So Mr lyaru's 
 consignment was thrown back on his hands. When we 
 parted (which we did on good terms) and everything had 
 been settled between uS, I gravely pointed out to him this 
 moral obliquity of his conduct. But all I could get out 
 of him was that he had spoken the whole truth, that 
 the dealer has cheated him over the brooms, and not 
 being able to get rid of them otherwise he had pre- 
 sented them to some hpoongyis. 
 
 Why have I chronicled all this small beer? Both 
 for other reasons and especially to illustrate this, that we 
 know little of what passes in other people's minds. 
 
 G 
 
|8 IN FOREIGN LANDS , 
 
 Gnothi seauton. Know yourself, you will never know 
 much about anyone else. It is not quite impossible 
 that Mr lyaru's story was true, but quite impossible^ 
 that I should ever have learned the truth about it. 
 
 However, it is time I should bid a solemn farewell 
 to Burma. With a sorrowful spirit I do so; farewell, 
 most amiable land! What shall the grateful traveller 
 wish you ? Not that ever you should be to the eye more 
 pleasing, to the heart more winning or delightful. To 
 the graces of life add, if possible, something more of pur- 
 pose and decision ; for life is not all an idle afternoon. 
 To the foreigner, your repose is welcome, to yourself it 
 is fatal ; and fate is closing*, in upon you. Be warned in 
 time, be wise; you expect too much from destiny, and 
 what she permits in a forgetful mood she will not permit 
 for ever. Become not to yourself, as you are to the tra- 
 veller, a memory. Quae scripsi scripsi; I will say no 
 more. But once again, farewell ! from the depths of my 
 heart, farewell ! 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 RAJPUTANA 
 
 In the month of October last year I took a holiday 
 in Rajputana, from Omkarji to Muttra. The reader is 
 here presented with some recollections of the tour. 
 
 Omkarji is a name of Mahadeo, which has passed on 
 to a certain temple of his that stands on an island in 
 the Nerbudda. One is recommended by Murray to visit 
 the place from Mortakka, ascending the river in a boat. 
 I did, so myself, but found the excursion tedious and the 
 boatmen exacting. The scenery also was dull till we 
 reached the island. Then, as so often in India, it 
 suddenly changed and became wildly picturesque. The 
 -island at its eastern end shoots up to the sky, and the 
 river flows between weird, perpendicular cliffy. The 
 channel is very narrow ; the water deep and still. Hang- 
 ing over it on the side of the hill is Omkarji, a little 
 town clustered round a temple spire. 
 
 We arrived late in the evening and landed at the 
 ghat. Not a soul was visible, but a policeman at last 
 turned up and informed us that the town was deserted 
 through an outbreak of plague. There was nowhere to 
 sleep in, at least nowhere that he recommended, and his 
 advice was that we should move on. It was too late 
 to take this step; but we had no difficulty in cooking 
 a meal, and I planted my bed on the spot. Dinner over, 
 I became conscious of a large circle of dogs, who had 
 
 99 
 
100 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 - f 
 stolen up and sat watching me, just beyond the light. 
 
 They were too dispirited to make the slightest noise. 
 The disappearance of the inhabitants had left these poor 
 creatures absolutely starving. 
 
 V Next morning I walked through the town and visited 
 the tertiple. The town was like Pompeii, a wilderness; 
 at the temple alone I found a few Brahmans in charge.- 
 A party of visitors arrived from Berar as I sat there, and 
 made their salutations and paid their dues. In front of 
 the temple was a white marble bull, with his nose in the 
 air and his chin resting on a column, which bore the 
 figure of a woman. By him sat a Brahman, who inter- 
 cepted the pilgrims as thfey retreated — " a pice here, 
 please; two annas for the lot of you! " So they laid 
 their coppers before hiin, and bowed, and poured water 
 over his nose, and departed. 
 
 They did not ask who the lady was, but I did, and I 
 found she was the donor of the bull, Ahalya Bai. 
 I believe this is the only portrait sculpture I have seen 
 or heard of in a Hindu tempfe ; and I wish it had been 
 a good likeness. Ahalya Bai, we are told, was a plain- 
 featured woman ; but if her character was written in her 
 face it must have been a notable one. There were some 
 figures in the past, much vaunted by partisans, which 
 will bear no examination ; the Queen of Indore was not 
 one of these. We have full details about her from 
 authoritative sources, and the closer we approach her 
 the greater and more amiable she appears. As a ruler 
 she is one of the few that reconciles us to the hateful 
 trade of politics. She gave her best powers to the 
 publjic, and not only deserved (which is a small thing), 
 but commanded success. Nor did she owe anything to 
 dishonourable means; in a dark period of India's for- 
 
RAJPIJTANA 101 
 
 tunes her name is associated with no act of wickedness. 
 Her principles were fixed; we meet them not as pro- 
 fessions but as forces underlying deeds. Her piety was 
 a habit of mind from which good works flowed un- 
 observed. ' She was, perhaps, like the Man of Ross, 
 though with means greater than his, she effected more. 
 Her tanks!, her temples, and her ghats are scattered 
 throughout the whole of India. In her private life the 
 hand of destiny was laid heavily upon her. Her son was 
 a rogue; her daughter, left prematurely a widow, as- 
 cended ithe funeral pyre. Here, too, from all that is 
 known of her behaviour, she has left abundant lessons 
 for mankind. 
 
 Her chattri stands at Maheshwar in Nimar in her 
 own country; her people, I suppose, have long since 
 forgotten her. 
 
 To return to Omkarji. The temple is not specially 
 notable. It is an old building of the usual type, some- 
 what knocked about by Aurangzeb. It contains, I 
 believe, no image, but a " self -existent " ling. The 
 name is a venerable one ; what is the true history of Om ? 
 I met a missionary in those parts who told me he once 
 inquired of a Brahman sage, " What, in his opinion, 
 was the worship practised in India in the most ancient 
 days of antiquity? " To which he replied, " The- wor- 
 ship of Om, by means of sacrifice." There is something 
 Vedic about the answer. 
 
 Many temples are scattered over the island, all ruined ; 
 the finest that of Siddhnath, at its eastern' extremity. 
 Near it is Bheercallah, a tremendous cliff, where 
 devotees, weary of mortal life, used to leap down and 
 perish. The jungle has overrun everything, and the 
 only inhabitants are troops of hostile monkeys. 
 
102 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 From Omkarji' I went to Mandu, setting out from 
 Mhow. The distance is fifty-two miles ; there is a choice 
 of routes between Dhar and Manpur ; owing to the pre- 
 valence of plague I was directed to go through Manpur. 
 This is much the finer route for scenery; it passes 
 through some of the wildest tracts of the Vindhyas. 
 
 These mountains- form a high plateau, intersected by 
 deep ravines. The descent is often quite perpendicular 
 and the views open up with dramatic force. You are 
 walking across an open plain, suddenly a chasm yawns 
 at your feet, and you are looking down a precipitous 
 gorge, filled with unconquered forests. I saw it all at 
 the right moment. There are about three days in the 
 year when Indian scenery culminates. These are the 
 three days following the rains. Everything is furiously 
 green, and rills of water are trickling about everywhere. 
 This perfection lasts for three days, then every hour 
 brings a change; in a week more water is scarcely 
 visible, and all the gorges are dry. 
 
 These precious three days I spent this year at Mandu. 
 It occupies an isolated spur of the Vindhyas, command- 
 ing the plain on one side, and the broken walls of the 
 mountains,, on the other. Nothing can exceed the 
 romantic beauty of the scene. The approach is strongly 
 fortified. You pass one gate after another, and finally 
 a city wall whose 'circuit is thirty-seven miles. Within 
 there is a vast area, 'almost all jungle, with a few clear- 
 ings. Two miles bring you to the state bungalow, 
 where there is peace and comfort, but remember, no 
 provisions. 
 
 I arrived in the evening, and next morning I sallied 
 forth to see the palace of Baz Bahadur. It was still two 
 miles from the bungalow, and some of the road was 
 
RAJPUTANA 103 
 
 under water. I persevered and reached it, and ascended 
 to the roof. It was a fine building, commanding the 
 whole of Mandu and much else besides. Traces were 
 left of tanks, and gardens, and cool arcades, amenities 
 which the Mohammedans in their surroundings never 
 neglected. Wherever the Mohammedan architect has 
 been at work you will find spacious views, gardens, 
 fresh air and pure water. 
 
 Beneath the palace is a tank, bordered by a row of 
 small but substantial buildings, whose original purpose 
 I do not know. As I passed them my guide mentioned 
 that there was a Gosain living there ; so I stepped in to 
 see him. I found him a man of about sixty years, a 
 very perfect Sanyasi. He had a long white beard and 
 eyes that beamed with intelligence and affection. His 
 throne was a pretty high bedstead in one corner of the 
 room, covered with a panther's skin ; at his bedside, 
 like Chaucer's poor student, he had a row of manu- 
 scripts, and all his surroundings were professional. 
 Two or three disciples sat beneath him, preparing food. 
 We had a good deal of conversation then, and he came 
 to see me at the bungalow. 
 
 It appears to me he was really above the common 
 style of mendicants, and only fell a little short of being 
 the founder of a movement. This was what he designed, 
 and he gave me a printed paper, which I took away. 
 Its archaic Marathi and appalling misprints placed it 
 out of my comprehension ; but I got it translated after- 
 wards, and think it interesting enough to quote : 
 
 " Shril 
 Hara 1 Narmada I 
 Peace! Prosperity to King Kali, the progeny of 
 
104 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 Mah^k^la, who is served by scores of familiars, headed 
 by the great Bull, the protector of all worlds I 
 
 The denunciation of the disreputable Bum-Bum, a 
 wanderer, whose name is feigned against all newspaper 
 writers throughout Bharatavarsha — 
 
 Since the beginning of the Kali Yuga there have 
 elapsed five thousand five hundred and. thirty years; 
 this is now the nineteen hundredth year of the Vikrama 
 era, and for half a century past many newspaper writers 
 have sprung into existence — the demons of former ages 
 who have now become devourers of religion — such as 
 the Jagaddhitechha, the Dnyana Prakash, the Subodha 
 Sindhu, the Kesari, and others — professed champions 
 of the eternal Aryan faith, who in the hour of trial be- 
 tray their false metal — Ah dreadful outrage 1 — like the 
 son of a barren woman of Kerala, or a sky-lotus, or an 
 archer with a bow formed of a hare's horns. Had these 
 people achieved anything worthy of their profession, 
 our kingdoms and the ancient Aryan faith would not 
 have fallen into such decay. But up, till now not a 
 single journalist has even dreamed of fiutting to himself 
 such questions as : 
 
 What is the Aryan faith? What is its province? 
 Whence comes it? Who should control it? 
 
 What is caste? 
 
 How should we mortals, with all our religious pride, 
 pass our life? 
 
 What are the proved conclusions of the Vedas? 
 
 What is the ultimate goal of creation, from first to 
 last? 
 
 What is an agent ? 
 
 What is karma ? 
 
 Who presides over the movements of the limbs ? 
 
RAJPUTANA 106 
 
 What countries are properly styled Aryadesha? 
 Herein for what purpose have various divinities been 
 born ? Will they return to us or have they departed to 
 their own places ? 
 
 What is liberation, and how can it be attained? , 
 
 Never attempting to answer these questions, our 
 journalists have swallowed up the time of the Aryas 
 with their articles about this country and that country, 
 discussing who is born, who has died, and who deserves 
 praise or blame. Now if we assist the present crisis, 
 God will pardon our offence. 
 
 The reason why our holy, places, our religion, and our 
 kingdoms are on the verge of ruin is this: we do not 
 perceive that those whom we style the Aryas,. in our 
 corrupt nomenclature, are really two people, Hindus 
 and Mohammedans. 
 
 The holy religion belonging to both religions, whence 
 all creatures has issued, is thie holy Narmada. 
 
 We have fixed now on the sixth month of a particular 
 year. If, before that month begins, there be any pro- 
 tector found of the Aryan family true to himself, Hindu 
 or Mussulman, let him wake and attend to the words 
 of the song : 
 
 Better death in your own religion. For the Aryan 
 religion is supreme, conferring liberation even on birds 
 and beasts. , 
 
 Had it flowed freely on, none of the alien faith should 
 have mingled with it; as it is, not strangers, but the 
 Aryans themselves deserve to be blamed. 
 
 Briefly, understand that destruction is drawing near 
 the Aryan race, Hindus and Mussulmans, and threatens 
 their religion, and the sphere of their unhindered 
 thought. 
 
106 IN FOREIG]!^ LANDS 
 
 Conclusion 
 Thus I complete the denunciation of Bum-Bum on 
 both castes of Aryans. If anyone listens to this, then, 
 once more, in another paper, I will expound how to 
 establish our own religion, what to do with caste, how 
 to preserve the seed of our kings, and build up again 
 the holy places of the Aryas. 
 
 But if none replies to this cry, then he who calls 
 himself disreputable Bum-Bum, the wayfarer whose 
 name is feigned, the patron of the great mantra of 
 Phalguni Purnima, will simply sit stilL Bear in mind, 
 all of you, that there is little time for this task. 
 Your well-wisher, 
 
 Bum-Bum." 
 
 Now,' what is the reader willing to think of all this? 
 Many refl6ctibns crowd into my own mind. To begin 
 with, I really do not know what the old fellow meant by 
 all he has said; whether, for instance, he approved of 
 the British Raj or not. , But I think he did, though it 
 might not seem so; I belifeve his interests were wholly 
 religious. His design was to bring Mohammedans and 
 Hindus together in a common faith ; how remote a goal 
 for any man ! — ^ajnd Archimedes, lifting the world without 
 his lever, would be an apt figure to illustrate this attempt. 
 " Bum-Bum " had no suspicions of that; he spoke with 
 authority and felt sure of himself. His followers, too, 
 believed in him. 
 
 One of them was a cloth merchant from Indore, who 
 had left wife and children, and come to this spiritual 
 guide to learn the innermost secret (mula beeja) of 
 religion. I myself was invited to join the circle; and if 
 I had known more Marathi, might have done so and 
 
RAJPTTTANA 107 
 
 studied the Treatise on Actions which the old man had 
 written and showed me. 
 
 He had visited the four corners of India and the seven 
 Puris; and somewhere or other had beheld a vision of 
 Devi, bidding him go to Revakunda and dig up an 
 ancient image of hers which lay buried there. There 
 accordingly he went, and guided by "a mystic radiance 
 from the earth, found the image and set it up in this 
 building. Here he meant to stay for three years, per- 
 forming certain sacrifices, " that the plague might 
 cease and the land might have peace." At the same 
 time he instructed his followers; and a small boy was 
 presented to nie who stood up in a decorous attitude 
 with folded hands and rehearsed the duties of a true 
 Brahman. The party were not all celibates ; I saw 
 women, and heard their usual concomitant — a baby 
 screaming. 
 
 Can we, who are children of the present West, imagine 
 the aspect which life wears to those born and bred in 
 such surroundings? Where every stage of it, on its 
 physical side, is so plainly visible, from procreation to 
 death, to the funeral pyre, or the Sadhu's grave? 
 Where water from the pool, and corn from the field 
 supply sufficient food, and a few yards of cotton sufficient 
 clothes? Where art, and science, and politics, are all 
 terms unknown ? I think few of us have the imagination 
 to enter this alien world, or to understand the philosophy 
 which belongs to it. Could we do so, however, with 
 what convictions should we emerge? Possibly we 
 should turn against civilisation, and find the enemy of 
 man in his own ambitious inventions. What are these, 
 we might say, but pieces of wasted ingenuity, no better 
 than the gramophone or the bioscope. Without them. 
 
108 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 the affections, of life, the only things worth having, are 
 equally or more possible. Should we, then, go further 
 and deride against life altogether? One cannot say. 
 Pessimism has probably sprung for the most part from 
 the burden of too artificial an age, or from the strain 
 of too much thinking. Nevertheless, it was the spectacle 
 of Age and Death that enlightened Sakya Muni ; and 
 perhaps the problem of life is the same wherever men 
 live and die. 
 
 In India, surely, it is more often thrust upon us; we 
 can nowhere escape its fatal questions. Why is it that 
 man gains so little over nature? Why are his victories 
 so few and so transient? Why do we meet at every 
 turn the dreary relics of his failures? India is a vast 
 grave of civilisations* Whether it be Islam fallen at 
 Mandu> or Hinduism at Chitor, the inscription is the 
 same, Lasciate speranza. 
 
 When this impotence of man is fairly brought home 
 to us, and when, besides, we have learned another of 
 India's lessons,\ the irreconcilable variety of human 
 creeds and codes, we need all our strength to retain any 
 faith or purpose. It may be a sound instinct which 
 leads the commtmities of this country to abstain from 
 mutual study, since the goal of mutual comprehension 
 is inconceivably remote, and in pursuit of it there is the 
 danger of collapse. 
 
 But we are in danger of forgetting Manda; let us 
 return then. Its history lies between A.n. 1300 and 
 1600; its zenith was reached about 1400. The king of 
 that date was Hoshang Ghori, who was followed by 
 Mohammed Ghori, the relentless enemy of Chitor. 
 Ferishta describes his character in the following terms : 
 " He was polite, brave, just, and learned. His tent 
 
RAJPTJTANA 109 
 
 was his home, and his resting-place the field of battle. 
 His leisure hours were devoted to recitations from the 
 histories and memories of the courts of different kings 
 of the earth. He prided himself on his intimatfe know- 
 ledge of human nature. His justice was prompt and 
 exact; if a theft was committed, a sum equal to the 
 amount stolen was levied from the police and the in- 
 jured party thus re-imbursed. He ordered the destruc- 
 tion of tigers and other wild beasts, and proclaimed 
 that if after a period of two years a human being was 
 killed by a wild beast, unless in attacking it, he would 
 hold the government of the district responsible. The 
 promptitude which he observed in making his actions 
 accord with his words was so well understood that for 
 many years after his death wild beasts of every descrip- 
 tion were scarce throughout the kingdom." 
 
 This fighting king was succeeded by a son of another 
 type, who at once gave out that he had seen enough of 
 war and meant to enjoy himself in repose. He accor- 
 dingly cultivated his seraglio, and is said to have had 
 there fifteen thousand women at his disposal. Amongst 
 these were schoolmistresses, musicians, dancers, and 
 embroiderers; women to read prayers to persons of all 
 trades and professions. On his right hand, in his 
 court, stood five hundreds beautiful young Turkey girls, 
 wearing a masculine uniform and carrying bows and 
 quivers. On his left were five hundred Abyssinians 
 carrying fire-arms. 
 
 At the same time he was extremely religious, and 
 attended with scrupulous punctuality to the five daily 
 prayers. His servants were ordered to see to this, and 
 not to let him oversleep himself. " It is well known," 
 says Ferishta, " that they have even sprinkled water 
 
no IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 on his face and pulled him out of bed, before he would 
 rise; and yet on these occasions he was never known 
 to lose his temper." 
 
 Destiny was so far kind to him, that he anticipated 
 Paradise on earth till he reached the age of eighty. He 
 was then poisoned by his son, under whom the fortunes 
 of the State declined. Later on, in 151 7, Mahmud of 
 Gujarat captured the city, and finally in 1570 the last 
 king, Baz Bahadur, became a vassal of Akbar. 
 
 Connected with his name, there is a romantic story 
 that once when he was hunting he met a Hindu girl 
 singing in the forest by the banks of the Narbada, and 
 offered her his hand and a share of his throne. She 
 was not unmoved by his passion, but conscious of the 
 bar of race between them she told him she could never 
 be his bride till the Narbada flowed through Mandu. 
 This meant twelve hundred feet nearer the sky, but Baz 
 Bahadur, undaunted, called his engineers together and 
 bade them fulfil the condition. The river itself sym- 
 pathised with his efforts, and assuming the form of a 
 giant bade him search for a tamarind on the summit of 
 Mandu, beneath which he would find a spring, which 
 was the true source of the Narbada. He found it and 
 he built a tank for its waters, that very Revakunda, 
 where I met the old Gosain I have mentioned above. 
 But in vain did he claim his promise from the maiden's 
 kindred. Her father, an inflexible Hindu, had her 
 poisoned and burned her corpse, and scattered her ashes 
 on the sacred stream. 
 
 As for Mandu, when it became a possession of the 
 Moghuls it slowly decayed. Jehangir stayed there on 
 a tour and rebuilt some of its monuments, and went 
 shooting with Nur Jehan. Such shooting! With six 
 
RAJPUTANA 111 
 
 bullets the lady killed four tigers, and her enchanted 
 husband ordered a thousand gold ashrafis, to be scattered 
 over her, and a pair of ruby bracelets worth a lakh of 
 rupees to be placed on her wrists. 
 
 We must omit other features of his visit, the Shab-i- 
 barat with the illuminations on the lake, and the splendid 
 feasts whereof the Emperor recalls thoughtfully the 
 fruit and the minced meat and the wine. All this is in 
 great contrast with the Mandu of to-day. We can see 
 indeed the trees, and the grass, and the wild flowers that 
 Jehangir admired; but the buildings, whichever there 
 were beginning to fall, have now almost vanished. It 
 is fortunate that Lord Curzon intervened to save the best, 
 or some of the best; and repairs are still being carried 
 out on the great mosque and the tomb of Hoshang 
 Ghori. This last is a noble dome, comparable in dig- 
 nity — though not in size — ^with the Gol Gumbaz of 
 Bijapur. It stands near the mosque erected by the same 
 king; a large building in the Pathan style. Wholly 
 devoid of ornament, it is nevertheless a great monument 
 of architecture, solid and massive and full of dignity. 
 Here is one inscription from its walls : 
 
 " Behold this mosque reared on high, this temple reaching to the 
 
 heavens ; 
 Whose every pillar is like those of the Kaba, 
 Which angels like the pigeons of the Kaba encircle, desiring to 
 
 show it respect. 
 When he came to a full age Azam.Humayun said, 
 ' The administration of your country, the construction of buildings, 
 
 and the defea;t of our enemies. 
 These are things ■rtrhich I leave you, my son, as parting advice, 
 
 earnestly delivered.' " 
 
 It has become a paltry feat of eloquence to moralise 
 over the ruins of these buildings, the moral has been 
 
112 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 pointed so often and so well. But there is certainly no 
 ' spot on earth which will imprint it on the mind more 
 forcibly than Mandu. Something, no doubt, is saved 
 there for the present ; the mosque and the tomb at least 
 are secure, and a little attention has been paid to one 
 or two of the palaces.' The rest must go, and in the end 
 will disappear when a few more generations of travel- 
 lers have gazed upon it, and judged over it, and gone 
 their wdy. ' 
 
 I returned from Mandu as I went, largely on foot, 
 walking patiently up the ghat after my tonga. As I 
 I went along I passed a red stone by the roadside, and 
 an old woman crouching over it and gently brushing it. 
 " Good morning! " said I, " pray tell me, who is 
 this? " " This," said she, "is Bhairoo; the spirit of 
 the Shah." " Indeed! " said I, "what is he doing 
 here? " " He was put here, when the road was madei" 
 said she, " for the protection of travellers, and they make 
 offerings to him." And sure enough, I then perceived 
 two pice lying before him to which, taking the hint, I 
 added something of rny own, and observed that this 
 had been a lucky day for him. " Unquestionably," 
 she said, "for, beside those pice he has also received 
 a handful of grain." While she was speaking a voice 
 interrupted our conversation, and asked a question 
 similar to my own. I turned round and beheld a man 
 dressed in peacock's feathers looking curiously at Bhai- 
 roo. When he got his answer he went on, " And who 
 carries away those pice, is it you old lady?" "Of 
 course," said she, " didn't I look after him ? " To this 
 he replied " Umph! " as much as to say he thought it 
 an unsatisfactory arrangement. Whereupon I asked if 
 he liimself paid any respect to this deity, and aggrieved 
 
RAJPUTANA 113 
 
 him greatly by my inquiry. For it seems he was a True 
 Believer, and with regard to Bhairoo, he held there was 
 no such person. I was tempted to wonder whether in 
 my absence he would have acknowledged the old lady's 
 claims to Bhairoo's acquisitions, and what view the 
 law would have taken of the case. 
 
 It is time, however, to deal with Oodeypurahd Chitor. 
 The latter of these places is a flat hill about four hundred 
 feet high and three miles long, inaccessible on every 
 side, except by one fortified road. This is easily as- 
 cended on foot; less comfortably on the state elephant. 
 Once established on the summit we may reflect where 
 we are. 
 
 Chitor is the ancient capital of Mewar, the oldest 
 existing kingdom in the world. Todd considers it was 
 founded in a.d. 145, but pious genealogists trace the 
 royal lineage back to Rama, the Solar King of Oudh. 
 And who shall say what his date was, or who he was, or 
 whoT;he Rajputs are? That we shall never know, or, at 
 least, we shall know it when we know the ethnological 
 history of India. At present, we can only say that India 
 is a microcosm, a little world within the world. Every 
 race known to hisfory has at some time been represented 
 here; and its representatives (until the Mohammedan 
 period) have somehow or other lost their identity and 
 become " Hindu." If you ask what this means I should 
 say " the doctrine of transmigration and the social 
 system of caste." These things are the heart of Hin- 
 duism, and they have scarcely been heard of outside 
 Hindustan. 
 
 As for the Rajputs, Todd thinks they were once 
 
 Scythians and worshipped the horse; if that is so, they 
 
 have long ago deposed the horse and accepted the genius 
 
 H 
 
114 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 loci, the cow. The mention of their name carries us 
 back to the great days of Hinduism. We half discern 
 the court of Vikramaditya vanishing like the figures of 
 the Arthurian legends. It lies beyond the epoch of 
 authentic Rajput history and we cannot devote on it 
 here; the Rajput lines that still exist came into promi- 
 nence later, when the Mohammedan wars began. With 
 these we must specially associate the name of Chitor. 
 
 In resisting the- Mohammedan invaders, the princes 
 of Chitor exhibited a valour and pertinacity not sur- 
 passed in human history. Three times their city was 
 besieged and sacked; three times the defenders burned 
 their wives and children , and flung themselves on the foe 
 and perished. When Akbar triumphed, thirty thousand 
 Rajputs are said to have fallen; and the last hope of 
 open resistance passed away. The Rajah took to the 
 jungles; his successor, Pertap Singh, fought on, and 
 finally, in the very last, hour of Mewar, Umra Singh 
 came to terms. They were not inglorious terms ; Jehan-- 
 gir gilded the chains of his captivity, and placed the 
 heir of Mewar on his own right hand above all the 
 princes of the Moghul Court. Still, it is plain what 
 was lost when the Rajah of Mewar became a vassal;' 
 and we read witliout surprise that Umra Singh resigned 
 his throne, and never left his palace till he died. 
 
 As for Chitor, it has remained desolate from Akbar's 
 time till now. He carried away from it every symbol 
 of independent power, and he defaced every monument 
 of the Hindu religion. Thus Chiton to-day is little but 
 a heap of^stones. Two buildings alone testify to the 
 splendours of its prime. They are both towers; one 
 Hindu and one Jain. The Jain tower is much the older, 
 dating from a.d. 846, a monument to Adinath, the first 
 
RAJPUTANA 115 
 
 Tirthankar. It is eighty feet high, square, with a stair- 
 case inside. In effect it falls somewhat short of the 
 Tower of Victory, which was built about 1440, to com- 
 memorate one of the rare Hindu victories over the Mo- 
 hammedans. This structure is a hundred and twenty 
 feet high, richly decorated with deep cornices and panels, 
 and sculptured figures of the gods. The effect is very 
 beautiful- and truly architectural as the mass is large 
 enough to bear the decoration. There is a staircase 
 inside, and a chamber at the top, from which all Chitor 
 is visible. Here is a translation, from Todd, of an in- 
 scription on its wall : 
 
 " While the sun continues to warm the earth, so long may the 
 fame of Khoombo Rana endure ! While the icy mountains of 
 the north rest upon their base, while the garland of the ocean is 
 wreathed about the neck of the earth, so long may Khoombo's 
 glory be remembered ! May the varied history of his sway and 
 the splendour of his dominion last for ever ! Seven years had 
 elapsed beyond fifteen hundred when Rana Khoombo placed this 
 ringlet on the forehead of Chitor. Sparkling like the rays of the 
 rising sun is the torun, rising like the bridegroom of the land." 
 
 It is impossible not to sympathise with that moment, 
 or to move onwards without compassion to the later 
 chapters of the tale. We need nOt be blind to the faults 
 of the Rajputs, their vindictive feuds, and their hope- 
 less disunion, but grievously indeed they have answered 
 them. 
 
 From Chitor the traveller naturally proceeds to Oodey- 
 pur, the modern capital of Mewar. It is now accessible 
 by train, though not very accessible, as locomotives 
 are not allowed to puff and snort near the walls of the 
 city. We may call it a good example of the picturesque. 
 It lies among irregular hills, a fairly large and pros- 
 perous town with a big white palace and an artificial 
 lake. "The lake's the thing"; it is studded with 
 islands on which temples, palaces, and pleasure gardens 
 
116 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 have been built. None of these are remarkable in thi 
 selves, but viewed altogether, they form a whole of 
 deniable charm. It appears to me they have been b 
 under Mohammedan influences; Mohammedans, a 
 have said, had a better notion of enjoying the open 
 than Hindus. A genuine Hindu palace is a cram 
 affair, and so is a Hindu city; but the islands 
 Oodeypur have an open aspect that pleases the Ei 
 pean eye. This no doubt is what takes globe-tr6ti 
 to the place. 
 
 One might say a good deal about globe-trotters ; 
 little of it would be said or sung in their praise. I 
 haps one per cent of them are travellers of culture, i 
 the rest are ignoramuses, predestined and incural 
 Many also are careless of etiquette, and devoid of gen 
 manly feeling. Thus they offend the resident popi 
 tion, and those who follow them miss the little aven 
 of approach by which the life of a country can be entei 
 The better sort of people learn to avoid strangers, 
 worst sort to pick their pockets and get rid of thi 
 All practical arrangements are made to suit the rich r 
 in a hurry; if you are not inclined to assume that | 
 you will find yourself superfluous. In India, fortunat 
 the globe-trotter is strongly attracted to Jeypur 
 Delhi ; we may regard these places as sacrificed, 
 others are left. 
 
 I find little else to say about Oodeypur except thi 
 bought some curios from the dealers there. Two 
 them came to the bungalow and offered me a knife 
 sale. "Look at this!" said they (speaking toge 
 like two characters in a Gilbert and Sullivan Ope 
 " a most ancient piece of work! You will never 
 the like of it again! " 
 
RAJPUTANA 117 
 
 Myself.—" What may the price of it be? " 
 ,The vendors. — " We wi^I not deceive you. The price 
 is twenty-five rupees." 
 Myself.—" Pooh I" 
 
 The vendors. — " Indeed it is. Had you been a tour- 
 ist we should have said at once fifty rupees, and we 
 should have got it." 
 
 Myself. — "Then why sacrifice it now? You know 
 the season for tourists is beginning." 
 
 The vendors. — " Very true, very true. But the Divali 
 is also coming on, and we want a little cash." 
 
 The end of it was that I bought two knives, one Af- 
 ghan, one Hindu. The Afghan knife had a jade handle ; 
 the Hindu knife was richly damascened with gold. 
 Steel and gold! How much human history is symbo- 
 lised by these metals ! I was partly moved by this 
 reflection to make the purchase; partly, also, I thought 
 the two weapons characteristic of their earlier possessors. 
 The Afghan knife was meant for business, a long stiletto 
 with one sharp edge; the Hindu knife was a kattar 
 whose form we all know and cannot describe. Shall 
 I say it is marked by that touch of unpracticality which 
 clings to so many things Hindu? 
 
 I bought also from my friends an old Jain image, 
 which was sold to me with apologies. "The Hindu 
 religion," said they, " forbids us to sell images; but 
 under the circumstances how can we help ourselves? 
 Promise us you will treat it respectfully." " I will be 
 a pujari to it myself," said I. " Ji," replied they, in 
 tones of deep acquiescence and gratitude; and the un- 
 fortunate devi passed into my possession. 
 
 One sees a good deal of the Jains in Rajputana. It 
 is curious they should be located next to the most flesh- 
 
118 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 eating community of Hindu ; for I understand the Ra 
 puts reject neither mutton nor pork, nor any sort ( 
 field game or fish. However, they agree well enoug 
 with the Jains; and when the birthday of Mahavira 
 celebrated in Oodeypur for eight days by royal con 
 mand, all sorts of animals are exempted from destru( 
 tion. No shoe-maker, were he ever so much of 
 Mohammedan, is allowed to wield his hammer, lest 
 should fall on a creeping thing ; nor is any sweet-makf 
 allowed to set his pans boiling. 
 
 Oodeypur is providently placed near Jeypur, for th 
 sake, one may suppose, of a contrast. As Oodeypu 
 braved the storm of the Mohammedan invasions an 
 was overwhelmed, so Jeypur prudently ran for the neai 
 est port, and is now the most flourishing city in Raj 
 putana. She was the first city to send a daughter t 
 the Moghul seraglio, which Oodeypur never consent© 
 to do ; and her ruler, Man Singh, was the greatest Hindi 
 in the service of Akbar. We. read with astonishmen 
 the names of his comniands from Cabul to Assam ; ai 
 extent of territory which exceeds the limits of the Britisl 
 Empir^ to-day. Akbar, "it appears, came to distrus 
 him, and devised a stratagem to take him off by poison 
 As it happened, the Emperor ate the wrong sweet 
 meat and perished himself, while Man Singh escaped 
 Jehangir is said to have fined him ten crores of rupees 
 after which he died quietly in Bengal. He was follow© 
 in 1699 by Jey Singh, the most remarkable ruler of hi 
 line. We shall not, however, if we follow Todd, alto 
 gether admire him. As Man Singh was the first t( 
 join the Moghuls, so Jey Singh was the first to join th( 
 Marathas, and he placed in the hands of Bajirao th( 
 office of Subadar of Malwa, the King of Rajputana 
 
RAJPTJTANA 119 
 
 This, however, was done to suit the interests of his 
 state, and we are reminded of Bacon's saying about the 
 shrewdness of the ant. As a result, however, Amber 
 lived comfortably through half the anarchy of the 
 eighteenth century ; and in this point of view Jey Singh 
 njust be considered an eminent ruler. Moreover, he 
 followed an enlightened policy at home. He removed 
 his capital from Amber to Jeypur, and built a city which 
 can be called really modern. 
 
 Here, then, we may enter Jeypur, whicli is still a walled 
 town, and look round us. The main streets are exceed- 
 ingly wide, and all the houses are coloured a rosy red. 
 This relieves the midday glare, and if not exactly beauti- 
 ful is at any rate characteristic. There is ho architecture 
 of any consequence, except \he well-known museum, 
 which stands in a large park. 
 
 The object of this institution is two-fold, to illustrate 
 Indian art, and on a minor scale, the art of the rest of 
 the world. There is a very much smaller establishment 
 at Oodeypur, which aims at the same thing. The Jey- 
 pur museum carries out the idea as far as it is really 
 practicable. Its Indian collection, as everyone knows, 
 is excellent. The other deparfment is a qualified suc- 
 cess. Experience shows that one sample of a great 
 school ' of art does not really illustrate it. We must 
 have a large collection to produce any impression, and 
 a collection of reproductions will not do at all. I can- 
 not see why this is so ; but nothing is more certain. 
 It appears, for instance, a promising plan to collect casts 
 of antique statues for the benefit of those who cannot 
 visit Rome; but, after all, when the collection has been 
 made, it is found to be insipid. 
 
 There is also a school of art at Jeypur; but I think 
 
120 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 the dealers were right when they told me it was ' ' onl) 
 a nominal school of art." I found the pupils copying 
 all sorts of things, from South Kensington scrolls to wait 
 sheets of natural history, published for primary schools 
 I did not, however, see any trace either of Indian tradi- 
 tion or genuine naturalism, the two pillars on which 
 the fabric of a new Indian art must be built, if it 'u 
 ever to rise. 
 
 The most notable spot in Jeypur is certainly the roya 
 observatory. Jey Singh was a remarkable astronomer 
 the greatest Asia:tic since Mugh Begh the Tartar, whc 
 flourished about a.d. 1400. The observatory at Jeypui 
 is the chief of five that he built; it was neglected afte) 
 his death, but has lately been restored. It is not, o: 
 course, a building but an open field. His instrument; 
 were partly of brass, but chiefly of stone covered witl 
 the finest plaster, on which measurements were takei 
 by means of wires. Some of them are very large, thi 
 gnomon of the great dial is nearly a hundred feet high 
 and there is a stone circle on the ground of thirty-thre 
 yards diameter, graduated to one-eighth of an inch 
 With such accuracy were these works effected that Je] 
 Singh was able to measure an angle of one-sixtieth o 
 a minute — that which a rupee subtends at two hundrec 
 yards. The powers of the unaided eye cannot possibl; 
 achieve more ; and in the geogrstphy of the skies, if w 
 may call it such, Jey Singh's work is unsurpassed. 
 
 , It is certainly an impressive picture, that of the diplo 
 matic prince alone with the stars. They mean't at one 
 less and more to him than to us, for he was a convince 
 astrologer. He was also a very devout Hindu, an 
 published an important work on Hindu ritual, fasti 
 and penances. 
 
RAJPUTANA 121 
 
 About five miles from Jeypur is the old capital, Am- 
 ber. It lies in a cleft of the hills, a mass of crowded 
 houses with many walls and towers about it. Looking 
 down from one of these, we obtain a good idea of an old 
 Hindu town. Though often called " deserted " there 
 are still many inhabitants ; and probably their number 
 is growing. Perhaps some day the whole place will 
 be re-peppled. In the meantime it affords the unparal- 
 leled spectacle of a group of ruins to which no painful 
 memories cling. 
 
 There, however, is one corner of it which is painful 
 to visit, the chattris of the old kings of Amber. These 
 buildings, mostly small canopies, are many of them vejy 
 beautiful, but since Amber ceased to be the royal resi- 
 dence they have been totally neglected. They are now 
 used by the populace as threshing floors and latriries. 
 Here is a curious fact, Amber is a free and prosperous 
 state, and this is how she treats the memorials of her 
 past. It is so all over India ; even at Chitor, which the 
 common sentiment of Rajjputana ought to guard with 
 devotion. Little is done by the Durbar to preserve its 
 relics, and nothing except under pressure. I think my 
 Hindu readers had better hear the unpalatable truth, 
 that if they do not respect these things more carefully 
 foreigners will suppose they do not much respect them- 
 selves. The inference may be mistaken, but to Euro- 
 pean eyes it seems inevitable. 
 
 The palace at Amber is a fine building, well preserved, 
 and maintained in good order. Its arrangements, es- 
 pecially its public arrangements, are largely Moham- 
 medan. Standing on a hill above the city, and crowned 
 by a picturesque fort,^ it presents a striking view, and 
 deserves its reputation among travellers. The lake 
 
22 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 elowls now dried up, indeed all through Rajputana a 
 Teat deal of water has disappeared in the last ten years. 
 
 The Jeypur state is the home of the Dadu Panthis, a 
 Dllower of Dadu, a Hindu reformer who lived about 
 600. ' He belongs to the age of Nanak, and Kibir 
 nd Tuk&, and was one of the many religionists who 
 rere interviewed by Akbar. His views are contained 
 1 a poem of about five thousand verses, called the Bani. 
 le rejected the caste system, the use of images and the 
 ustom of pilgrimages; and explained the origin of 
 
 gods " by a system of Euhemerism. He allowed no 
 bsolute authority to any religious book. His religion 
 j therefore a pure theism. " I have found that God is 
 le unchangeable, the immortal, the fearless, joy-giving, 
 slf-existent, allmighty, beautiful, unimagined, unseen, 
 icomprehensible,. infinite, kingly ong." Like all great 
 jachers he has something to say of his own struggles 
 fter truth, and his lapses into sin. " From the be- 
 inning to the end of my life I have done no good thing, 
 gnorance, the love of the world, false pleasures and for- 
 etfulness have held me." " As the opium eater longs 
 )r his opium, the hero for war, the poor for wealth, so 
 )ngs my soul after God." 
 
 Some of his followers are soldiers, others money-' 
 snders, and others schoolmasters. Many, especially the 
 lore religious, are celibates; they bear a good reputa- 
 on, but I understand they have lapsed from the teach- 
 igs of their founder. 
 
 Hindu India in Rajputana lies everywhere in violent 
 intrast with Mohammedan India; and so between. 
 ;hitor and Jeypur lies Ajmere. It was never a seat of 
 npire, but a favourite resort of several emperors, in 
 ays, probably, when there were some trees on the hills 
 
RAJPUTANA 123 
 
 , and the climate was more agreeable. At present Ajmere 
 is a tumble-down city, huddled under Taragarh; knee- 
 deep in dust and devoid of all general attractions. Yet, 
 if the stranger will step into the little park there, he will 
 suddenly find before him one of the most pleasing views 
 in India. The park borders on a lake, with an artificial 
 dam, and on the dam are four marble pavilions, erected 
 by Shah Jehan. They had passed into private occupa- 
 tion, but were restored by Lord Curzon in 1902. This 
 architecture is faultless; visit them after Oodeypur and 
 you will at once perceive the difference between first-rate 
 and second-rate work. The view extends over the lake 
 and the fields beyond, with wild mountains rising in 
 the middle distance. 
 
 Beyond these mountains is the sacred lake of Pushkar, 
 a muddy little pond surrounded by temples of recent 
 growth. It is the chief excursion from Ajmere ; but 
 better worth seeing .is the Arhai-din-ka-jhompra outside 
 the city gate. This is an old Jain temple, which, about 
 A.D. I200, was converted into a mosque. Half of it was 
 knocked down for a screen of arches erected in front of 
 the other half. They were covered with Tughra inscrip- 
 tions, the most wonderful work of its kind in India; 
 after the visitor has seen Agra and Delhi, it is still wprth 
 his while to see these arches. And the scene is further 
 interesting as a reminder of the conflict of religious 
 ideas in India. History cannot show elsewhere two 
 religions so distinct as those of the Jains and the Mo- 
 hammedans ; there is not one common principle between 
 them. Here vigorous optimism meets absolute pessi- 
 mism, pure theism meets atheism, idolatry meets icono- 
 clasm, and the most unscupulous respect for animal life 
 meets the carnivorous sacrificial system of the Semites. 
 
124 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 What wonder is it that the struggle between them ended 
 only with exhaustion ? Yet neither side has disappeared, 
 or changed its views or its tactics. There is an armistice 
 between them, as there is between Rome and the here- 
 tics. Some day it will end. 
 
 Meanwhile Islam demonstrates her vitality in a lively 
 way at the Dargah in Ajmere. It is a lar^e establish- 
 ment containing a very handsome mosque built by Shah 
 Jehan, and the tomb of a great saint. Visitors are 
 tolerated. Just beyond the entrance stands a huge iron 
 cauldron, of which? wealthy pilgrims sometimes avail 
 themselves of the great feast. This costs them about a 
 thousand rupees, which are spent on rice, sugar, spice, 
 almonds and rai§ins. The cooking takes some hours, 
 and when the pudding is ready, certain families, in virtue 
 of a hereditary privilege, proceed to appropriate it. I 
 happened to arrive on such an occasion. The Indrakotis 
 were crowded on the steps round the cauldron, armed 
 with long wooden ladles and swathed in oilskins. Each, 
 in his turn dipped these in the pudding and retired 
 with their prizes; not won without tribulation, for the 
 heat of the pudding was tremendous, and all over the 
 courtyard there were figures stretched on the ground with 
 their friends fanning them. The air was filled with 
 appetising odours; and my garrywallah requested the 
 immediate loan of a few coppers. I believe that on 
 these auspicious days no questions are asked about cere- 
 monial cleanliness; everybody buys and eats as much 
 as he can. At least so Murray says. 
 
 Not far from Ajmere is Fatehpur Sikfi, and thither I 
 proceeded, travelling on a bullock cart from Achnera. 
 I suffered many things on my way from a huge mptor, 
 which came no doubt from Agra. It hooted me and my 
 
RAJPUTANA 125 
 
 bullock cart into the ditch, and left us suffocated with 
 dust. I watched it whirling on to the horizon in the 
 faint hope that something might happen to it; but, of 
 course, I was disappointed. Later on I got to Fatehpur, 
 and settled down in the very comfortable bungalow. 
 
 Fatehpur, as everyone knows, was the fruit of a 
 caprice of Akbar's. He had Agra and he- had Delhi, 
 but he chose to build himself another city, and its 
 name is Fatehpur. It was vanished altogether except 
 the emperor's own palace ; and that stands in perfect pre- 
 servation. We can see to-day, exactly as Akbar left 
 them, his hall of audiences, the palaces of his queens 
 and ministers, and his great mosque. The design and 
 workmanship — except in one case — are somewhat in- 
 ferior to those of Agra; but that is a slight dispraise. 
 Fatehpur is still one of the most beautiful places in 
 the world. 
 
 One of its peculiarities is the exclusive use of stone 
 for every purpose of construction and decoration. There 
 are stone rafters and stone screens and stone seats. I 
 suppose there must have been plenty of rugs and carpets 
 spread about when Akbar lived there; but at present 
 this universal use of stone invests everything with a 
 rigid character somewhat at variance with the graceful 
 outlines. The colour of the stone is a rich handsome red. 
 
 It is impossible in such a place not to muse over the 
 character of the great Emperor. Great he certainly is, 
 beside any figure in history. He appears to have been 
 the first of the Moghuls who looked on India as his own 
 country. There are many things in his career that may 
 seem at variance with this, and some that may shock us. 
 We may think, for instance, that he ought to have left 
 the Rajputs their independence; but India had seen 
 
126 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 so much strife between a.d. iooo, and a.d. 1500, that 
 Akbar possibly viewed all independence in the light of 
 a public danger. Possibly, too, it may be argued that 
 the Rajputs ought to have seen that. Pertap Singh in 
 the jungle, refusing to eat with Raja Man, is a sym- 
 pathetic figure, but an omen of doubtful import for the 
 future of India. At any rate there are two sides to the 
 question, and Akbar, though he inherited the tradition 
 of conquest, and was himself a conqueror, was not of the 
 naive type of Tinuir or Jenghiz Khan. He was a states- 
 man, and if his work did not last long, at any rate it 
 lasted longer than any similar work in India. 
 
 However, at Fatehpur, what interests us is rather the 
 traces of his personal character. It remains, I believe, 
 inscrutable. He seems to have been a seeker after ex- 
 perience, like Solomon or like Hadrian, like whom, also, 
 he was a great builder. He was equally active in peace 
 and war; in the pursuit of toil or amusement. As a sol- 
 dier he was noted for reckless daring; and in peace he 
 followed pleasure, when he chose, with the same dis- 
 regard of scruples and dangers. Did he not invent the 
 Khooshroz ? On the ninth day of each month there was 
 a fair held within the precincts of his court attended 
 by females only. The merchant's wives exposed their 
 goods, and the ladies of the court came to buy. Then, 
 too, came the Emperbr, and made his choice not of 
 the goods alone but of the ladies, for in this matter he 
 recognised no rights against his own. 
 
 Yet I do not suppose these pleasures loomed very large 
 in his eyes, for he had other topics to think of. We 
 have all heard of his religious curiosity. In Fatehpur 
 there is a stone canopy called the Yogi's seat, where it 
 is said a Yogi lived for many years under his eye. Ak- 
 
RAJPUTANA 127 
 
 bar believed there was something to be got out of these 
 people. " He gave them private interviews at night, 
 inquiring into occult truths, the power of being absent 
 from the body, alchemy, physiognomy, and the omni- 
 presence of the soul. His Majesty even learned al- 
 chemy, and showed in public some of the gold made by 
 him. Once a year also, during a night called Shivara- 
 tri, a great meeting was held of all the Yogis of the em- 
 pire ; and he ate and drank with the principal Yogis, who 
 promised that he should live four times as long as 
 ordinary men. We discern in this promise a glimpse 
 of what the Emperor really though vainly desired, as 
 he must have fojund life too short for his purposes. 
 
 One of the palaces at Fatehpur belonged to a Portu- 
 guese queen ; and it is covered with traces of paintings. 
 I need not observe that these were unwelcome to the eyes 
 of strict Mohammedans. Akbar, however, thought dif- 
 ferently, and we have his defence of the pictorial art, 
 which he made one evening to the court. " It appears 
 to me as though a painter had peculiar means of recog- 
 nising God ; for a painter in sketching anything that has 
 life, and in drawing its limb one after another, must 
 come to feel that he cannot bestow individuality on his 
 work, and is thus forced to think of God the Giver of 
 life." 
 
 So Akbar was truly a philosopher, and in this aspect 
 is something like Marcus Aurelius. There is no rarer 
 phenomenon than the philosopher who is also a success- 
 ful king. This praise belongs to him ; he knew how to 
 rule men and attach them to himself. We cannot doubt 
 that under the splendours of his court there lay much 
 bitterness of races and creeds. Thus, for instance, of 
 Birbal, the Hindu, Akbar's long-mourned friend, the 
 
128 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 Mohammedan court historian speaks as " that dog who 
 is now burning in hell "; and Akbar had to repress 
 sentiments like these. He owed part of his success to 
 great personal generosity. When, for example, he de- 
 stroyed Chitor he honoured the memory of its defenders 
 by erecting statues of Jaimal and Putta at the door of 
 his palace at Delhi. A fact like this shines far amid the 
 horrors of the age. 
 
 His place in the imagination of Indians is not com- 
 mensurate with his remarkable character. Hindus are 
 not interested in him, and strict Mohammedans do not 
 admire him. He founded no system, and his name is 
 tarnished by the shameful decline of his house. Never- 
 theless whom shall we put beside him among the princes 
 of India? Asoka alone, in my opinion, is a figure 
 whose pre-eminence mankind have recognised. Like 
 the gate of his mosque at Fatehpur -he towers above the 
 plain of common men and kings. 
 
 Not far from Fatehpur lies Muttra, the centre of the 
 Krishna country. There is no trace of Krishna to be 
 found there, so I will not digress about him. Muttra is 
 interesting in itself, I think it the best and most attractive 
 specimen of an Indian town that I have seen. It contains 
 a real contribution towards the ideal of town arrangement, 
 an ideal which, after all these centuries, has hardly begun 
 to be formed. The main street is just the right width, 
 wide enough for traffic and not too wide for shade. 
 The streets of Jeypur, though a most creditable experi- 
 ment, are too wide to be successful. The main street of 
 Muttra seems to settle some questions. It persuades me, 
 for instance, that side walks in India should be aban- 
 doned, but that pavements should be introduced. The 
 main street of Muttra was paved with slabs forty years 
 
RAJPUTANA 129 
 
 ago; it is still quite level, and a delightful change 
 from the appaling dust of upper India. The fronts of 
 many of the houses are most beautifully carved, and 
 the shops are really attractive. In the cantonment is a 
 small museum, with one famous Grseco-Indian statue of 
 Buddha. It is a most noble work of art; I have seen 
 nothing approaching it in India. One might compare 
 it, however, with the statue known as Prakramabahu 
 near Pottonarue in Ceylon. 
 
 Muttra has an even greater claim on the visitors' 
 attention ; the temple of Govinda at Brindaban. The 
 history of this building is probably related at length 
 somewhere ; I have not come across it. Nor do I know 
 whether the temple was ever finished; it was partly 
 destroyed by Aurangzeb, and has been partly restored 
 by the British Government. At present, the outer 
 portion of the roof is incomplete, and the intention of 
 the architect is uncertain. In shape it resembles a 
 Christian Cathedral being a Latin cross, measuring one 
 hundred and five feet north and south, one hundred 
 and seventeen feet east and west. The choir, so 
 to speak, isi closed to visitors, being occupied (and 
 sadly defaced) by Hindu priests. The rest of it is quite 
 public. It may fairly be styled one of the most remark- 
 able buildings in the world. The design and the dec- 
 oration are most beautiful throughout, and the roof is 
 quite astonishing. It is a piece of stone vaulting at least 
 equal to anything of the kind in Europe. In general 
 effect it may be compared to that of King's College, 
 Cambridge; but possibly reflection would show it to be 
 even more beautiful and ingenious. 
 
 But one forgets its beauty in marvelling at its origin- 
 ality. Where did the artist learn to conceive of such a 
 
 I 
 
130 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 thing? Where, indeed, did the design of the building, 
 come from altogether? 
 
 We may partly answer this question. It is evident 
 that a Hindu architect was here utilising some inspira- 
 tion from Islam. He was providing for a congregation, 
 a provision in itself rather Mohammedan than Hindu. 
 He made the corner of the roof identical with .that of the 
 common Mohammedan arch. The decoration through- 
 out he confined to geometrical forms, avoiding anything 
 that might provoke the iconoclast. So far his proceed- 
 ings and the source of his idea can be accounted for. 
 The explanation, of course, as i;i every similar case, 
 only brings out the greatness of his originality. True 
 originality is always a reckless borrower, and this holds 
 as much in India as elsewhere. But why is it that this 
 effort stands alone ? Why is it that the long contest of 
 Hinduism and Islam has led to so little ? Here we have 
 a proof that the union of these diverse spirits has not 
 always been impossible or unfruitful. The rise of the 
 Sikhs is perhaps another such example; and the poet 
 Kabir is said to be another. But their number is small ; 
 and most critics hold that the future will see no progress 
 , along this line. Meanwhile, it is greatly to be desired 
 that this building should be more carefully preserved. ~ 
 The devotees who spoil one end of it must, of course, be 
 left alone ; but bats and monkeys should not be allowed 
 to defile the rest of it. A few simple precautions would 
 keep them out.' It is certain that no building in India 
 deserves more study or more admiration. 
 
 From Muttra it is an easy passage to Aligarh, which 
 is known everywhere as the seat of the Mohammedan 
 Anglo-Oriental College. To the traveller with no edu- 
 cational objects the chief sight of the place is the French 
 fort, a few miles distant, with De Boigne's house in a 
 
RAJPUTAJSTA 131 
 
 large garden. The fort is in excellent repair; the house 
 is falling to pieces and soon will, no doubt, vanish. It 
 is quite deserted, and forms an appropriate memorial 
 of the brief episode in Indian history which it com- 
 memorates. We may call it the days of the European 
 adventurers. Wicked days they may have been and 
 uncomfortable in some way ; but they form an agreeable 
 relief from the morbid and discontented morality of the 
 present age. I suppose De Boigne spent many pleas- 
 ant hours in that house and garden. Ice he had not, 
 nor kerosine oil, nor a sola topee to cover his head 
 withal ; but I dare say he managed to import some French 
 wine, and kept a Swadeshi zenana. Have not all the 
 poets told us that this is enough to make a man happy ? 
 Be all thisi as it may have been, the age of De Boigne 
 is ended, like this present history of my tour, for at 
 Aligarh I was laid up with malarial fever, and to 
 complete my recovery thought it better to inhale once 
 more the invigorating breezes of Bombay. But Central 
 India contains other places of interest, which I hope to 
 visit at some future time. Let me add these few reflec- 
 tions for a conclusion. I took as my companions 
 Captain Todd's " Annals of Rajasthan " and Major- 
 General Malcolm's " Central India." These are books 
 not wholly unknown yet so little studied to-day that a 
 few words may very well be written about them. From 
 a literary point of view they are dissimilar. Malcolm's 
 book is readable; Todd's is formless and distracting. 
 It is necessary to finish one preliminary heading of 
 Rajasthan before attempting to understand or remember 
 it. But both books are similar in their contents and the 
 attitude of their authors towards the country. Both 
 authors were practical men. Todd re-settled Rajputana, 
 and Malcolm Central India. These countries had 
 
132 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 suflfered greatly from the Mohammedan wars and the 
 Maratha incursions; and both Todd and Malcolm re- 
 garded themselves as champions of distressed causes. 
 Being both of them students as well as soldiers, they 
 knew the whole history of their districts; and they felt 
 a deep attachment towards old claims and usages. They 
 felt it everywhere their mission to restore and to resist. 
 All this is reflected in their books, which are largely 
 concerned with operations over which they presided, 
 themselves. But they have done abundant justice to 
 the past, and they are both of them hero-worshippersi 
 Malcolm's picture of Ahalya Bai is one of the most 
 generous eulogies ever penned by a foreigner, and the 
 more liberal because Malcolm disliked the Marathas, and 
 treats them north of the Nerbada as intruders. 
 
 The period to which they belong is now as remote 
 from us as the days of Asoka. Things have moved 
 rapidly in India, as in Europe, and 1907 knows little 
 about 1807. Nevertheless, Malcolm's instructions to his 
 subordinates will be valuable as long as Europeans play 
 an executive role in this country. They are valuable, 
 too, as a memorial; they show how the British ascen- 
 dancy was attained. As the English are not a literary 
 people, it must be considered lucky that a literary record 
 of this period survives. 
 
 Malcolm and Todd are both " orientalists." They 
 did not believe that English ideas or institutions were 
 good for India ; nor did they believe in English educa- 
 ' tion. They would apparently have limited English 
 activities in India to maintaining public order ; or, if they 
 had 'done more, they would only have done it as a 
 favour, or by special request. Whether they were right 
 or wrong, history has taken a different course. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 NORTHERN INDIA 
 
 The city of Delhi, as it meets the eye to-day, is for the 
 most part a waste of huts and hovels. Even the Chandni 
 Chauk shows us nothing to admire but its width ; the 
 houses on either side of it — tenth-rate buildings in their 
 prime — are all decayed and squalid. Whence come the 
 name and fame of imperial Delhi ? Bernier asked him- 
 self the same question in the days of the Grand Moghul ; 
 he found Delhi much as we find it now. Perhaps all 
 cities behind walls have been dirty and crowded; and 
 perhaps prudence, in the neighbourhood of absolute 
 power, suggested to the people of Delhi a modest 
 programme for their private buildings. Delhi is now, 
 I am told, the piece-goods market of northern India; 
 but the hardy commercial, looking up his customers, has 
 to dive into some queer places. The merchant of 
 Bombay has learned to appreciate a suburban residence ; 
 that day has not come in Delhi. 
 
 What takes the traveller there is the Moghul architec- 
 ture ; let us re-visit it in our thoughts. 
 
 Conspicuous in my own memory beyond everything else 
 is the Kutub Minar. We all know it from photographs 
 — which all fail to reproduce it. Nothing pan reproduce 
 the magnificient colour of the stone, a sombre red, the 
 livery of a conqueror. Round it run three bands of 
 Toghra writing, incised with deep, bold strokes. The 
 
 133 
 
134 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 sunlight glows on their surface, the shadows lurk within 
 them; the stranger devoid of Arabic can nevertheless 
 read there the pride and thanksgiving of victory.' I 
 have seen much of this writing in India, but no example 
 so strong and glorious, not even in the tomb near it — 
 where lies the old saint whose name has been given to 
 the tower. 
 
 This tower is a miracle of art, more wonderful even 
 than the Taj, because there is nothing like it. Now 
 most original ideas in the realm of art are failures ; every 
 masterpiece comes from some line of ancestors; rarely 
 does it happen that a great innovation is a great success. 
 From this point of view I place the Kutub Minar along 
 with the temple of Gobinda at Bindraban ; and I would 
 sooner see either of them again than the Taj. Perhaps, 
 too, one might place with it the leaning tower of Pisa 
 and the tower of victory at Chitor. Yet the last achieves 
 its effect half by accident; the scale is great, but it 
 seems to have been conceived intellectually, as a 
 multiplication of parts; the Kutub was conceived as a 
 whole. Or, again, one might say, the tOwer at Chitor 
 was the vi^oi^k of masons; the Kutub is the work of an 
 architect. The spirit of proportion presides over every 
 angle and every moulding, and the voice of criticism is 
 silenced. 
 
 Near this same Kutub is the famous iron pillar which 
 commemorates the old Hindu regime. It is about thirty 
 feet long, and about twenty feet rise above the ground 
 The outward aspect, though neat and graceful, wears 
 the cramped character of most Hindu art. The surface 
 is smooth, and polished, without a trace of rust ; a few 
 inscriptions mark the flight of ages. We should not 
 pause long over it were it not for the material. This 
 
NORTHERN INDIA 135 
 
 is pure wrought iron — a tough piece of work which even 
 the modern smith could not easily turn out. It must 
 have been built up slowly, we cannot quite say how; 
 and we can only wonder that it was ever completed and 
 that nothing else like it survives. Tradition says that 
 if you can put your arms round it backwards, you are the 
 son of your father — not otherwise; but perhaps the plea 
 of rheumatism may excuse a visitor from the test. 
 
 Not far from the Kutub is the fort of Tughlakabad, 
 with the tomb of Tughlak. The fort occupies a low 
 eminence, once surrounded by a swamp. The swamp is 
 now dry and cultivated, the fort is in ruins. It belongs 
 to the earliest days of the Mohammedans, a rude, 
 frowning structure, with a circuit of three miles. What 
 a host of warriors it must once have held ! The walls are 
 masses of unhewn stones, in true Cyclopean style, with 
 a few pointed arches for the gates ; there i? nothing of 
 high art here. Yet the tomb of the chieftain is a grand 
 monument. Something between a fort and a tomb, it 
 has a massive wall round it, in the centre a quadrilateral 
 pile, with a dome and heavy wa;lls that slope inwards. 
 I sat there long contemplating the grave, listening to 
 the cries of the parrots and the steady drone of the 
 hornets that people the vault. Large, yellow brutes they 
 were, that swept down fiercely to the door and kept the 
 visitor on his good behaviour. Nevertheless, two of 
 them fought among themselves, and I triumphed over 
 them and killed them, and gazed with awe upon their 
 stings. No wonder the Hittites and the Hivites fled 
 before them. 
 
 Between the Kutub and Delhi are ten miles of ruins, 
 — tombs and mosques and walls. There is the old 
 Hindu fort, with a fine Afghan mosque inside it; and 
 
136 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 not far away is buried that pious daughter of the Moghul 
 line, Jehanara Begam, ^hom all her contemporaries 
 loved. Here you may see the most beautiful marble 
 work in the neighbourhood of Delhi. Moreover, there 
 is Huimayoon's tomb which I do not care for, and 
 remeniber chiefly because I bought some photos there. 
 
 Yes, there I bought, on one sheet, all the great 
 Moghuls and, on another, all their wives and 
 daughters. One looks curiously from face to face to see 
 if their thoughts are written there. Physiognomy is a 
 craze of our age, and it is true that a man's features may 
 in strange and subtle ways evince his mind. Yet this 
 truth has its limits; it is less true in the East than in 
 the West, it is perhaps least true of royalties everywhere, 
 and perhaps the artists of the great Moghuls followed 
 the type rather than the individual. Certain it is .that 
 nothing in the placid features of their delineations 
 reveals the history of the Moghul line. What a history 
 it is, at least from Babiet to Aurangzeb; both in the 
 romance of personal fortunes, and the vicissitudes of 
 political ideas 1 What a medley of noble virtue and 
 ignoble crime! How swift and brilliant was the rise 
 of their star ; how swift and irrevocable their fall ! 
 
 The Moghul ladies appear, in their portraits, more 
 individual and more interesting. Their beauty is 
 undeniable. Nur Mahal is to me the most pleasing; 
 she has an early Victorian face, sweet rather than 
 vivacious — of course, we see her in repose. Hardly any 
 face is pleasing both in repose and animation. Does 
 not Schopenhauer observe how parsimoniously nature 
 bestows the gift of beauty ? 
 
 I should greatly like to know who the " Moghuls " 
 were. There hangs about them a portion of that mystery 
 
NORTHERN INDIA 137 
 
 which attends everything in the past of India. Pefadven- 
 ture some learned man has already answered my ques- 
 tion, but as I cannot do so, I will at any rate state it, 
 and leave the reader to answer it for himself. 
 
 Let us first see what sort of people there are living 
 and moving in Asia to-day. Let us classify them (i) 
 by complexion. In the Far East there are the yellow 
 (but rosy-cheeked!) Japanese; the yellow Chinese; the 
 Burmese, both yellow and brown ; the Central Asiatics, 
 yellow ; the Indians, brown and black ; the Arabs, brown ; 
 the Persians, sallow ; and the Turks and Jews, sallow or 
 white (except the black Jews). Then (ii) by features. 
 Let us call one type, with oblique narrow eyes, 
 Mongolian; another, with round horizontal eyes, 
 Caucasian. How are these types related to the 
 complexions ? The yellow people are all Mongolian ; 
 the brown partly Mongolian, partly Caucasian ; the 
 sallow and white peoples all Caucasian. Can we say 
 now to what class of people the various invaders of 
 India have belonged? 
 
 Probably, in most cases, we cannot. I do not think 
 we know in the least what the original Aryans looked 
 like. If they were a white race with Caucasian features, 
 what has become of them? If they were a brown race, 
 how is it that we have no brown races with Caucasian 
 features north of the Himalaya? — which I believe is the 
 case. What were the Scythians and Huns ? Probably, 
 in various degrees, they were brown and yellow, with 
 Mongolian features. Lastly, what were the Moghuls? 
 Probably, a mixture of Mongolian and Caucasian 
 features, with brown skins. But how are they related 
 to the Turks ? The Turks of the present day (I believe) 
 are quite fair; some people say they once looked like 
 
138 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 the Moghuls, but have changed. We have a further 
 difficulty about the history of the Moghul language. 
 If the people are to be considered as radically of 
 Mongolian features, it is curious that their language 
 has no Mongolian elements. Has it any Turkish ele- 
 ments? I do not know; of course the vagaries of 
 linguistid history are infinite. 
 
 Politically, the history of the Moghuls presents us 
 with a certain paradox. Their system was autocratic, 
 like the Mohammedan system everywhere. Yet, it had 
 none of that divine sanction with which the system was 
 invested by other Asiatics, alike by Persians, Chinese 
 and Hindus. Mohammedan sentiment has always found 
 it appropriate that earth should be governed by a single 
 ruler, as heaven is, but it'has never in any way defied the 
 king. Ibn Khaldoun explains the rise of sovereignty 
 in a practical spirit, from the play of forces ; it does not 
 rest on the popular will, nor on any mission from the 
 skies. Nevertheless, the Moghul system in India lacked 
 the counterpoise of the Hindu village system, and it 
 never gave any play to those democratic impulses which 
 may be found in Arabia, and are yet destined, perhaps, 
 to mould the future of Islam. 
 
 The Moghul religion is also an interesting affair. If 
 we regard the Moghuls as Mongolian in features, we 
 must also regard them as converts to the faith of another 
 race. There cannot be a greater personal contrast than 
 that of the Arab and the Mongol. If we ask about the. 
 original faith of the Mongol, it appears to have been 
 spirit worship, overlaid with Buddhist nihilism. Some 
 mixture of the sort must have satisfied the conscience of 
 Jhengiz Khan ; the true Mongolian appear to have been 
 always infertile of creeds. Islam, which has attracted 
 
NORTHERN INDIA 139 
 
 the Ethiopian and even the white Caucasian, did not fail 
 on the steppes of Central Asia, and the hordes of Timur 
 accepted its simple formula. 
 
 They seem to have been a receptive people; the most 
 so, perhaps, of any that have lived. It appears that, 
 within a few generations, these wandering herdsmen 
 became the patrons of art for whom the Kutub and the 
 Taj were built. The foundations of these buildings must 
 be sought for in Persia — the artistic centre of western 
 Asia. Yet the question remains, whose really was the 
 inspiration that created them? Not Hindu, unquestion- 
 ably; though we can see that the architects employed 
 Hindu masons, and sometimes left them to their own 
 methods of construction. Can we suppose the Moghuls 
 themselves struck out their new ideas? Who, for in- 
 stance, taught the dome to rise in the air, as a proud and 
 noble feature of the exterior? The Byzantine style 
 confesses its failure here; the modern dome in Europe 
 is due to the genius of Brunelleschi. 
 
 Who was the Brunelleschi of Asia? I know not; but 
 he accomplished his work well. Visit Delhi that queer 
 old mosque which goes back beyond the days of Tughlak 
 (I forget its name), and, thereafter the Jumma Masjid. 
 This great building stands in the front rank of all places 
 that men have ever built. You cannot choose a point 
 from which it is not perfect. Nevertheless, its finest 
 effect is perhaps that of the minarets from a distance. 
 They are built of red sandstone with vertical lines of 
 white marble. Close at hand the contrast of the colours 
 is somewhat glaring; but as you retire they blend and 
 soften each other. The minarets are crowned with 
 canopies of marble, which gleam in the sky with pearly 
 radiance, elevating and chastening the mind. Truly, 
 
uo IN foreign; lands 
 
 arcljiitecture is the most holy and august of all the arts, 
 and the great architect must be a master-mind. 
 
 Yet it is well to remember that he for whom this 
 mosque was built, in the year when he completed it, 
 dethroned and imprisoned his father— for no reason but 
 his own attibition. 
 
 We know now why Delhi is styled imperial, they say 
 it has been the seat of seven epipires. But it has never 
 been a home of ideas; its place is with Samarcand, and 
 not with Bagdad, the Paris of Asia. Life, peradven- 
 ture, is stirring there to-day; did I not see a missionary 
 of the Arya Samaj disputing in the street with a mulla ? 
 The waves of the Arya Samaj wash the shores of Delhi, 
 ] though they be not felt as far thence as Benares. 
 
 Long ago I visited Delhi at the time of the Durbar, 
 and of what I saw then the scenes still dwell with me. 
 At the door of the S. P. G. Mission sat a naked Asiatic, 
 burning himself to death. There was no doubt about 
 it; he sat with his back to a fire and he was slowly 
 perishing. Near him on the ground was a rupee, which 
 a thoughtful young bania had provided " to buy him 
 some more wood." " What is he doing? " said L 
 " He is thinking of God, who dwells in the heavens," 
 replied the bania with a suitable gesture. I wondered 
 much what philosophy controlled his thoughts and 
 whether that philosophy belongs to the essence of 
 Hinduism. 
 
 We are so used to this name that we forget to ask 
 ourselves what it really means. A shopkeeper in Benares 
 read me a lesson here. I spoke to him of " Hindus," 
 and he retorted, " we do not call ourselves by that name, 
 it was .invented by the Mohammedans." " What do 
 you call yourselves then?" said I; and he replied 
 
NORTHERN INDIA 141 
 
 " Aryans." I dare say his answer would have pleased 
 the Arya- Samaj ; but to my mind it recalled another 
 of the Indian problems. Whence have come the ascestic 
 and nihilistic aspects of Hinduism ? Are they reactions 
 from within ? Was that self-immolating visionary the 
 spiritual heir of the blithe Rig Veda, or did he spring 
 from some other creed, some other race, aboriginal in 
 India, with which the destinies of the Aryans have 
 mingled ? I myself incline to think so ; but all things 
 are possible in the phantasmagoria of history. 
 
 Benares' lies wholly on the northern side of the 
 Ganges; the stream confers no sanctity on the other 
 bank. The minarets of Aurangzeb's mosque dominate 
 the town ; by the river bank are palaces belonging to old 
 and rich families. The ghats leading down to the water 
 are very poor affairs, and many of the buildings, for 
 want of foundations, have fallen to pieces. Confusion 
 and dirt reign everywhere, delighting the souls of those 
 who love the picturesque. Globe-trotters make the tour 
 of the, place in a boat, observing with 'satisfaction the 
 funeral pyres, corpses lying in the stream, etc., etc. ; with 
 curious and fearful joy they visit the Nepaiilese temple 
 (ladies not admitted), the Dnyankup and other places, 
 some of which I saw myself. There is no architecture 
 worthy of the name, but the narrow streets near the 
 temples, though they smell strongly of ammonia, are not 
 unattractive. Here you may buy black ammonites from 
 the Gandak River, coloured stones and crystals, and even 
 a rich-handed conch-shell, if your purse is long enough. 
 Modern brass- work is common, but, in spite of many 
 dusty explorations, I discovered no antiques. At the 
 hotel I bought a hookah-base of Bidri work, a sumptuous 
 masterpiece of other days. This was all, and this is all 
 
142 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 I have to record of the city of Benares. The Central 
 Hindu College Idescribed from afar, but knowing my-^ 
 self for a flesh-eater and a wine-bibber, I did not visit it. 
 From such persons, they say, there radiates a kind of 
 bad magnetism which is injurious to people on a higher 
 plane. 
 
 Not far from Benares is Sarnath, a place sacred in the 
 annals of mankind. Here Buddha preached his first 
 sermon, and here, for many ' centuries after his death, 
 there was a great monastery. It vanished in the course 
 of time, and the earth, in its own unaccountable way, 
 slowly crept over the ruins of the buildings, till some 
 of them lay beneath a mound twenty feet deep. Of late 
 years cautious excavations have been made and the ruins 
 are now laid bare. On the whole, they are disappoint- 
 ing ; the plan of the buildings can scarcely be made out 
 and nothing of first-rate importance has come to light. 
 Nevertheless, one Asoka pillar has been found with a 
 regulation imposing discipline on heretical monks, 
 several statues of Buddha, and a magnificent stone lion. 
 This lion is perhaps the finest work of art in India. It is 
 really a conjunction of four lions, one facing in each 
 direction, and it formed the capital of a pillar. The 
 expression of the faces is full of majesty, and the legs 
 are carved with marvellous power. Clearly it belongs 
 to the group of sculpture that embraces the lions of 
 Assyria and Persia; but how it comes to be an emblem 
 of Buddhism, who can say? Buddhism is remarkable 
 for its interest in animals and its naturalistic representa- 
 tions of them. All over the Sarnath ruins there are 
 excellent sculptures of geese swimming and flying, which 
 are now to be. collected in a museum on the spot. I 
 grieve to say that, before this museum is finished. 
 
NORTHERN INDIA 143 
 
 the lion will have suffered some damage from the 
 weather. 
 
 Near the ruins there is a tope with fine decorations 
 carved on it; geometrical and flamboyant patterns of 
 great breadth and vigour. 
 
 At the hotel I met a Buddhist, a German Buddhist, a 
 man of some means, who spent all his life on pilgrimages 
 to Buddhist shrines. We had much conversation about 
 Buddhism, and I asked him to tell me something about 
 Nirvana. " The fact that you ask the question," said 
 he, " shows that you do not yet understand what 
 Buddhism is. Buddha has told us nothing about 
 Nirvana. As a Buddhist, all I know is that I am suffer- 
 ing ; that my suffering is due to desire ; that when I cease 
 to desire I shall cease to suffer." " Then, as a Buddhist," 
 said I, " you ought to take refuge in the Order? " 
 " That is true," said he, " but I have not done so. I 
 perceive this truth intellectually, and I move round and 
 round it; but I have not brought myself to taste it." 
 " Yet, are you sure you are right? " said I. " I will 
 place before you the case of two brothers who are known 
 to me. One of them, eighteen years ago, retired from 
 the world, and lived and lives on what visitors offer him, 
 devoid, as I suppose, of all passion and desire. The other, 
 a poor schoolmaster, on thirty rupees a month, supports 
 that brother's family — and his own ; now, should he have 
 asked Buddha whether he ought to join the Order, what 
 advice would Buddha have given him? " " Buddha," 
 replied he, " would have given him no advice." 
 
 My friend may have been right; yet I think the 
 answer proves that, had Buddha been consistent, he 
 should have been a Jain. He should have perished by 
 the sallekhana, sitting down where the truth first dawned 
 
144 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 on him, and dying. I do not see how the Buddhist 
 virtues can be derived from the Buddhist principles. 
 
 The history of Buddha and his movement is still 
 unknown. We shall not be able to say we know it, till 
 we can place Buddhism in its right relation to Jainism. 
 And of both, again, the question may be a^ked, were 
 they born within the System of the Rig Veda ? Or did 
 they come from Dravidia ? Or from Mongolia ? I do 
 not see that we know or ever can" know the answer to 
 these questions. The statue of Buddha will for ever 
 confront us like the sphinx. 
 
 I can understand the position of those " Hindus" 
 who, far from accepting Buddha as an avatar of Vishnu, 
 regard him as the great enemy of their race and creed- , 
 " To him," they say, " yre owe the apathy of centuries; 
 we are not yet recovered fronl the injury he did us." 
 Nevertheless, the vigorous figure of Aspka is Buddhist; 
 and after Buddhism vanished, from 500 to 1000 B.C., 
 Hinduism had its own way and flourished. I doubt if 
 the teaching of Buddha really killed off the energy of 
 the Aryans. It was' never ascetic in the darker sense, 
 and it had great breadth of view. Its decline, like its 
 rise,. is wholly unaccountable. If we could believe it to 
 have been a foreign idea, we might suppose it perished 
 under the weight of native sentiment ; but this is a mere 
 speculation. Some people think it was discredited by 
 barbarous tribes who received it without understanding 
 and perverted it. But in the long run explanations fail, 
 as they generally fail when we are dealing with history. 
 For history is not a matter of science — if indeed there be 
 such a thing as science. 
 
 Not far from Benares is jaunpur, once for a hundred 
 years the seat of a Mohammedan kingdom. It has an 
 
NORTHERN INDIA 145 
 
 architectural style of its own chiefly exemplified in its 
 mosques. In these the west end is roofed in by a single 
 huge vault, running north and south, with a propylon 
 opposite the mihral, facing the court. The sides of the 
 propylon slope inwards, with a characteristic effect. The 
 style is remarkable and interesting rather than successful, 
 but the mosques of Jaunpur are well worth seeing. After 
 the Jumma Masjid and the others in the city, the best 
 appears to be the Lall Darwaza, which is outside it, 
 and now disused. 
 
 At the Jumma Masjid thsre is a Koran school, which 
 was in session when I arrived. Under the barrel vault 
 of the mosque there was a long row of pupils sitting, 
 each with a Koran before him, learning a portion by 
 heart. Some were urchins of ten years old, others 
 bearded men. Their voices mingled in a pleasant 
 reverberation from the roof, and their diligence was 
 gratifying to a schoolmaster's eye. I could not find 
 myself distressed to think they did not understand 
 Arabic. ^What does such a consideration matter ? They 
 were busy and they were happy, and at least they were 
 not working for an earthly reward. Set them explaining 
 the meaning of the text, and what evils will follow 1 
 Once during my travels I met a distinguished man, a 
 Professor of Arabic, and I asked him if there were no 
 rocks ahead of Islam ; if this religion alone had nothing 
 to fear from any Higher Criticism. " Yes," he said, 
 " I think it has. Some day the Mohammedans may find 
 out how much Mohammed retained of pre-Islamic super- 
 stitions; how much he misunderstood and misused the 
 books of the Christians." Till then, apparently, the 
 system is safe, and the methods of Jaunpur and the Al- 
 Azhar University are the best. 
 
 K 
 
146 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 You, moreover, you Western pedagicists, who chatter 
 so much about interest, where do you find the elements 
 of interest in this method of education? Truly, you 
 will not get the Board-school boy to work more diligently 
 at nature study, than the Young Oriental at memorising 
 the Koran, of the Veda, or the Avesta. Your guiding 
 star of interest may turn out, after all, an ignis fdtuus; 
 human nature defies formulas. Follow facts, and do 
 not listen to the philosophers; the Real is the only 
 Rational. 
 
 To proceed from Jaunpur by a devious flight, I 
 winged my way to Darjeeling. Who has not heard the 
 name of Darjeeling ! Who has not read of the Darjeel- 
 ing hill railways ! From Siliguri fifty miles onwards it 
 writhes its sinuous course up the mountains, following 
 its predecessor, the cart road. There is not a tunnel the 
 whole way and scarcely a viaduct, but loops and revers- 
 ing stations whereby impossible things are accomplished. 
 Sometimes, looking out of the window, you see yout own 
 engine rushing past you ! 
 
 At Kurseong the weather grows cold, and it is colder 
 still at Darjeeling. Mysdf, the victim of Bombay 
 temperatures and Bombay malaria, I could not stand the 
 cold, and I left Darjeeling unexplored. I did not see 
 Kalimpong, where the poor Eurasian is taken in hand; 
 nor ever Tiger Hill, whence Gaurishankar and Mount 
 Everest show themselves. Still it is something to have 
 stood on Darjeeling and looked round one there. The 
 settlement is perched on a spur, with a deep valley on 
 three sides ; beyond the valley are the lower slopes of the 
 Himalaya, and further still, on the northern side, the 
 range of Kinchinjanga. A more striking panorama 
 assuredly does not exist. Forests there are few or none; 
 
NORTHERN INDIA 147 
 
 the vegetation is not striking, but the scale of the 
 mountains is tremendous. The snowy peaks are best 
 viewed at sunrise or sunset ; only long observation reveals 
 their size. 
 
 From Darjeeling to the foot of the Kinchinjanga is 
 a month's march. I met an explorer who had been over 
 twenty thousand feet high, and learned that in his opinion 
 the ascent is practicable. To accomplish it, the requisites 
 are money, mountain experience, and tact with coolies. 
 The situation waits till two or three people turn up who 
 unite these qualifications. 
 
 In the bazaar at Darjeeling a^e congregated Lepchas, 
 Bhutias, Goorkhas, and Thibetans. They come on 
 various trading purposes and bring Thibetan curios for 
 sale. Some of these curios are spurious but most are 
 perfectly genuine, and I wonder where they all come 
 from. During the past thirty years countless thousands 
 of them have been sold in Darjeeling. They fall, 
 broadly, into three classes: boxes and teapots, images of 
 gods, and articles used in magic. Though unfortunate 
 in the season of my visit, I procured some good speci- 
 mens of each class. Three ivories I purchased: one a 
 seated Buddha, smiling and serene, another of the Male 
 and a third of the Female Energy. Shiva (if it be he !) 
 is mounted on a horse, surrounded by flames, wielding 
 a mace and a thunderbolt, and no less grimly frowns his 
 consort. The syncretism of the Thibetan -seems to 
 carry them any length. I have a little horn, used for 
 dispelling bad weather, with the Boar on one side and 
 Shiva on the other. From these quaint mysteries one 
 turns with relief to the decorative work, which offers 
 us no problems except those which it solves. The 
 Thibetans have a portion of that decorative sense which 
 
148 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 belongs to all the Mongolians ; and their work, though 
 never finished, is bold and effective. How curious that 
 skill in decoration is the earliest achievements of the 
 human artiste! Here we may see that savage and 
 barbarous people have as often little to learn; that 
 civilisation, despite frantic efforts, often travels further 
 and, further from true decorative principled and successes. 
 
 The Thibetans of the market place are attractive 
 people, dirty in the extreme, but simple, jolly and 
 industrious. I fear they are selling off some of their 
 treasures for shoddy articles of convenience and foolish 
 gewgaws. Why can't they see that their own good 
 moccasins are better than bad boots? But then one 
 might say, why can't European purchasers tell the 
 genuine from the spurious in the articles which they 
 buy? Each side preys on the other; and perhaps each 
 side has the same percentage of connoisseurs. 
 
 From Darjeeling I descended to Calcutta and 
 registered my first impressions of our Indian metropolis. 
 
 It is divided into two parts; west of the Hooghly there 
 is Howrah, a manufacturing quarter; east of it there are 
 shops, houses and Government offices. You perceive 
 at once that Calcutta is not an Oriental creation, like the 
 native city of Bombay ; the streets are wide and straighl 
 and provided with foot-paths. Parallel with the rivei 
 is the maidan, a true rus in urbe, which would swallow 
 up our Bombay maidan twenty times over. There are 
 some fine buildings, but I think we have the advantage 
 here in B6mbay ; nothing struck me as quite first rate 
 In breadth, however, and a certain spacious quality 
 Calcutta far surpasses Bombay. The first-class shop: 
 are more numerous; the crowd in the streets is large: 
 and more lively; Bombay looks provincial by the sid< 
 
NORTHERN INDIA 149 
 
 of Calcutta. , This impression is confirmed by conversa- 
 tion with casual strangers. I gather that opinion of all 
 shades is more vigorous and comes to a focus more 
 closely in Calcutta than in Bombay. The press alone, 
 I think, is less enterprising there. 
 
 Calcutta is in many ways a miniature London ; as 
 Bombay, in some aspects, is a miniature Paris. The 
 climate, in the cold weather, recalls the London fogs; 
 the same grey mist hangs over the streets and the river. 
 The Hooghly Bridge, in its volume of traffic, recalls 
 London Bridge ; the river scene is much the same. There 
 is the same volume and bustle of shipping, barges pass- 
 ing up and down, ferry boats scuffling about; wharves 
 and slips and tall chimneys in the background. Turn- 
 ing thence to the Mayfair of Calcutta, we find the same 
 aristocratic clubs and streets of the substantial houses. 
 Trees and gardens abound ; I believe they are never 
 burned up by the sun, but continue throughout the year, 
 as they were in November, green and refreshing. I 
 should certainly suppose that life in Calcutta approached 
 the real thing more closely than life in Bombay. In 
 both places', of course, it is ruinously expensive; and you 
 have always to choose between splendour and misery. 
 Providence, in both places, is on the side of the long 
 pursed. 
 
 The chief glory of Calcutta is Harrison Road. It 
 starts from the Hooghly Bridge, and carries much of the 
 traffic which crosses it. Near the bridge the conges- 
 tion is incredible, the sufferings of men and animals past 
 description. The confusion does not grow less as you 
 proceed. Tall houses, four stories high, line the road 
 on either side, a tram line passes down the centre. The 
 foot-path is much too narrow for the crowd, and years 
 
150 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 ago it ceased to be available for passengers at all.. A 
 throng of Pathan merchants took possession of it and 
 covered it with immense packing cases. Here they squat 
 and lounge about, making the road almost impassable, 
 while they remain impervious to all remonstrances. 
 Tall, loosely built, truculent men they are, with a noli 
 me tangere look about them. The day after I visited 
 the road, they had a faction fight amongst themselves. 
 A Cabuli, it appears, sought to buy a pomegranate 
 from a Peshwari, and, on being asked two annas for it, 
 made the offensive remark that a better fruit could be 
 bought in Cabul for a pice. On this a pique began, the 
 Cabuli was murdered and a good many packing-cases 
 smashed. I had the misfortune to miss this scene ; but 
 I was sufficiently entertained by the daily ,by-play of 
 the streetTlife. Here I saw a pretty thief caught and 
 pummelled, while yonder a missionary appealed to a 
 fluctuating audience, of whom half were always saying 
 " Yih kia bat hai? " and the other half, " Kuch nahin." 
 In the evening great images of Kartikeya made their 
 appearance, with canopies of peacock's feathers. Proces- 
 sions were formed ; thousands of acetylene lights were 
 kindled, and bands of dusky musicians struck up John 
 Peel. I looked aloft at the tall houses and wished I had 
 been James Whistler. He could have flung a pot of 
 paint in the face of the Bengal public ! 
 
 Not far from Harrison Road, you may visit, if you 
 will, the Kintals of the Eurasians. These are the palaces 
 of the poor; I know not the origin of the word. The 
 thing itself is a group of bamboo huts, with a tiny 
 compound in the middle. The rent of each hut is about 
 four rupees a month ; it is small value for the money, 
 but the poor always pay most for the little they have. 
 
NORTHERN INDIA 151 
 
 The denizens of these abodes live partly by odd jobs, 
 partly by begging, borrowing and stealing. Children 
 swarm; it is part of the pre-established harmony of the 
 world that the wastrels should be most prolific. The 
 virtuous, like Buddhist monks, are sterile. However, 
 to do them justice in the Kintals the poor whites are 
 clean ; their few belongings are neatly ordered, and they 
 have their share of Micawber's optimism. Their great 
 enemy is the bottle. " Sad cases " abound. In one 
 place I found a man sitting idly on a chair who had 
 just been dismissed from the police for drinking. He 
 had lost a good income and a pension ; and next him sat 
 the tenant of the house who enjoyed both advantages, 
 and was steadily yielding to the demon. The example 
 of his friend was wholly lost on him. Both of them 
 talked freely of their fortunes ; they regarded themselves 
 with mild interest, and feebly wondered whether any- 
 thing could be don^ for them. 
 
 What indeed can be done with such people? It is 
 impossible to shoot them, and useless to recommend 
 them to shoot themselves. It is useless also to exhort 
 and reprove them. Practical measures are needed; 
 there should be someone to take away their money and 
 govern them and feed and clothe them, and lead them 
 back gently from the state of freedom, for which they 
 are not fit, into the state of slavery. These, no doubt — 
 or part of them — were the unspoken views of my guide, 
 a Salvation Army captain. He wasted no time on moral 
 indignation, but made himself useful, everywhere, ac- 
 cording to the case. I will not say that such efforts are 
 hopeful, but they seem to be indicated. Moreover, they 
 seem to bring a certain satisfaction and even peace of 
 mind to those who undertake them. I have observed 
 
152 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 before nOw that " self-sacrifice " (as it is popularly 
 called) is after all the most probable path to happiness?' 
 How disquieting I 
 
 Once upon a time I was dining at a club, whose name 
 you would recognise if I were to tell it to you, and I sat 
 at a sniall table with an old Irish doctor. At a large 
 table next us were gathered, in a hilarious-mood, many 
 opulent and distinguished people. As dinner pro- 
 ceeded my neighbour eyed this gathering more and 
 more closely and proceeded to estimate their incomes. 
 " What a thing money is," he concluded ; " it gives one 
 self-confidence and inward peace." Was he right? I 
 should like to have sat by as umpire while he and the 
 Salvation Army captain discussed the question. The 
 weak point of the latter would have been that he and h,is 
 like would persist in getting married. St Francis, 
 peradventure, could have argued the case better. 
 
 But I do not like to leave the topic of drink without 
 a few more reflections. There is a quaint difference 
 between the position of drink in literature and in life. 
 Turning to books, we find that all the great poets have 
 been priests and minstrels of Bacchus. In the optimistic 
 <joethe we find wine (like the Soma juice of India) the 
 symbol of divine aspiration and the channel of divine 
 influence,; in the pessimistic Omar it is the consolation 
 of the disillusidped seekers after God. In the lighter 
 vein of those that celebrate patriotism and friendship, 
 drink is the name by which they name these things. 
 But turning to life, how these fantasies are dispelled 1 I 
 refuse not to allow that Bacchus is rightly named 
 Lyarus; that a touch of his wand does sometimes lift a 
 cloud from the spirit ; that many of us may say nunquam 
 potui scribere jejunus ; but is there a viler spectacle than 
 
NORTHERN INDIA 153 
 
 drunkenness ? A drunken Helot, or a maudlin patriot ; 
 -'tis all one; they should be towed astern of the ship till 
 they are sober. Some other time I will descant on 
 Bacchus in art, and say what I can of Rubens. 
 
 To proceed. The chief religious centre of Calcutta is 
 the temple of Kali in the suburb. You approach it down 
 a long narrow lane lined by throngs of importunate 
 beggars. Escaping from these, you are cordially 
 received by the Brahmans and conducted round the 
 temple. There is nothing much worthy of notice, save 
 that the image is extremely black, raising the ethno- 
 logical question, why some images are black? In the 
 court-yard, however, may be witnessed the interesting 
 function of sacrificing goats, which perish here in great 
 numbers, black, brown and white. There is a V-shaped 
 block in the ground where the goat's head is inserted; 
 an instant later it is severed with a dexterous blow, and 
 lies on the ground staring at its body. The flesh is after- 
 wards eaten by the worshipper. When I arrived, a 
 pious enthusiast was bending on all fours over the 
 guillotine, rubbing his forehead against it ; he reminded 
 me of a Mohammedan pilgrim embracing the Kaaba — 
 according to Barton's account of the ceremony. I 
 observed to my guide that these proceedings were not in 
 accordance with the doctrine of ahimsa, and that Mrs 
 Besant disapproved of them. " Possibly," said he, 
 " but you have no right to talk. Why do you kill 
 cows? " " Because I am a Christian," said I, " and 
 do not know any better; but you have ajight to guide 
 you in the shastras," On this he fell into some 
 confusion, and turned the conversation by asking me if 
 I knew where the sister Nivedita was. 
 
 Returning from the shrine of Kali, it is convenient to 
 
154 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 visit the cathedral on the way. There is nothing notable 
 about it; I chiefly remember two cenotaphs near the 
 door. One is to Henry Martin (" He was a burning 
 and a shining light "); the other to the members of 
 Lumsdert's Horse who fell in the Transvaal: 
 
 " These sons of Britain in the East 
 Fought not for praise or fame; 
 They died for England, and the least 
 Made greater had great name." 
 
 A more interesting building is St Anne's Church, 
 where Job Charnpck is buried. It is built in old- 
 fashioned monuments and inscriptions. My own taste 
 in these matters is old fashioned ; I think the eighteenth 
 century understood what literature is better than we do 
 to-day. We could scarcely to-day find anyone to write 
 so good an inscription even for a more distinguished 
 grave : 
 
 " By Time's sure test in various stations schooled 
 
 God claimed the heart, and, that first tribute paid, 
 Wide flowed the stream ; one generous purpose ruled 
 
 The soldier's duties and the toils of trade. 
 O keep the record, keep it, faithful stone, 
 
 Nor yield it but to registers above ; 
 Till Heaven's high Lord shall gather for his own 
 The kind and true, the Stewards of His love. " 
 
 — ^A.D. 1822. 
 
 There are pleasant excursions in the neighbourhood 
 of Calcutta, particularly one down the river to the 
 Botanical Gardens and the Banyan tree. This veteran 
 is one hundred and fifty years old; it has been carefully 
 nursed and encouraged to expand. Six hundred stems 
 descend into the earth, and everyone of them can be 
 traced to the parent trunk. This is vast and venerable, 
 overspread with creepers and orchids and penetrated by 
 gloomy hollow. In other respects, the gardens are well 
 
NORTHERN INDIA 155 
 
 laid out, and, like the Calcutta Zoo, they are a credit to 
 the management. 
 
 So, too, is the museum, incomparably the finest museum 
 in India. I had no time to see anything but the antiques, 
 of which there is a very large collection. The most 
 notable figures are those of Tara Devi from Nepaul, 
 and those of Buddha. They display, for the most part, 
 anything like natural truth in their pose or conforma- 
 tion; but trouble not yourself about this " materialist " 
 requirement, and you will soon pass under the spell of 
 Tara's winning smile and Buddha's image of dreamless 
 sleep. (It occurs to me that the jewels of Tara Devi 
 indicate a lurking " materialism " in her worshippers— 
 but you must expect some confusion of ideas from 
 Thibet.) 
 
 At the Calcutta museum you may inspect copies of all 
 the photographs that the Archaeological Department have 
 taken. The time so spent is richly rewarded; by why is 
 it only possible to spend it so in Calcutta? For a few 
 rupees a copy of these photographs might be placed in 
 every Presidency town. Pan lakshatkon gheto? 
 
 There is one more excursion to be made from Calcutta, 
 one by no means to be omitted by the Protestant visitor, 
 the excursion to Serampore, the lona of Indian Protestant 
 Christianity. Here, in the early days of our modern 
 age, came the shoe-maker Saery, the most remarkable 
 man that the Protestant churches have sent to India. 
 Here he founded his Christian College. On a beautiful 
 site by the Ganges he built a spacious hall and lecture 
 rooms. Defying all difficulties, he raised incredible 
 sums of money, endowed his institution with funds to a 
 charter, and set on foot every form of activity and 
 inquiry. He collected a library of many thousands of 
 
156 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 volumes, and an outfit of scientific apparatus. He 
 compiled a vocabulary of six Indian vernaculars, and a 
 lexicon of Sanskrit. He cast Indian type, set up a press, 
 and printed his translations of the Christian Scriptures. 
 I stood amazed amid his library and looked upon the 
 relics of his life. Here was an air-pump ; there a natural 
 history museum. The vocabularies, and lexicon were 
 written upon paper which he made himself, steeping it 
 in tamarind juice to, preserve it from the termites. 
 I He was a man of great ideas, material or spiritual as 
 you may choose to call them ; surely from friends or foes 
 respect is due to his memory. Time has written failure 
 against his hopes, and dishonoured his drafts on ^he 
 future. His collections are perishing or have perished; 
 the termites have fared sumptuously many days on his 
 library. His very site is ruined. A foot-path cuts it off 
 from the river, and a part of the estate (sold by the 
 mission in some short-sighted hour) now bears a hideous 
 jute mill. A chimney-stack rises a few yards from his 
 college hall, the air is filled with the whir of machinery, 
 and the river bank is become an ash-pit. 
 
 This was the last thing I saw in Calcutta. I left the 
 place in a recollective mood. On the stage of Calcutta 
 more than elsewhere our Anglo-Indian drama has been 
 played. Here, more than elsewhere, the Anglo-Indian 
 has made himself a home, and reproduced the gay and 
 sober sides of his home life. (See Busteed's " Echoes of 
 Old Calcutta," and other books of the kind). He has 
 had local interests and local sentiment, and something 
 resembling local life. There even emerge from the 
 darkness of the past names that live in lite/ature. It was 
 here that Rose Aylmer dropped her blossom in the 
 grave; not far away that little Henry converted his 
 
NORTHERN INDIA 157 
 
 bearer. I should spoil much paper if I tried to sketch the 
 melee of selfish and unselfish hopes that have landed 
 here, the struggles and sufferings of early days, their 
 quaint experiments, their quaint habits of life, and those 
 vicissitudes of temper that have made our forefathers 
 unintelligible to ourselves. Even then I should only 
 have Written part of the history of Calcutta, for though 
 founded by England, it has been and still is, a focus of 
 Indian sentiment. Lix ea nostra voco ; I am writing now 
 of forgotten Anglo-India. One sometimes catches a 
 glimpse of its lighter side; on the Red Road in the 
 evening, methought I saw one Raw driving with Lucy, 
 and followed him home to a dinner party of senior 
 merchants. There was more discomfort in those days; 
 there is a darker tinge about our own. 
 
 Not long afterwards, I left Calcutta and proceeded to 
 Giridih. As I passed through " Golden Bengal," I 
 could not but admire the country; green rice-fields and 
 clusters of trees, with villages which seemed to me more 
 open and more comfortable than those of the Deccan. 
 The air was moist and hazy and full of effects that re- 
 minded me of England. I perceived the source of Mr 
 Gongooley's inspirations and felt that painting might 
 have a future in Bengal, 
 
 My purpose in visiting Giridih was to see the coal 
 mines, for Giridih is not only a revolutionary, but an 
 industrial centre. About forty years ago some one found 
 out that coal lay hidden there. Experiments followed, 
 failure was overtaken by success, and to-day we have the 
 spectacle of many collieries in full swing. The workings 
 at present are not very deep, nothing going beyond a 
 thousand feet, but they are fully equipped and organised. 
 
 I descended more than one of the mines — for the first 
 
158 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 time in my life. 'Tis a quaint sensation to drop down 
 in the cage; you seem to leave your stomach behind you. 
 Arrived at the bottom, you sally forth and behold the 
 goblin visages of the miners, dimly lit up by lanterns and 
 candles. (There are no fiery mines in Bengal and no 
 safety lamps.) You have perhaps half a mile to walk 
 before you reach the furthest workings; the coal is 
 extracted from the furthest workings first. In the 
 Bengal mines the seams are so thick that you can walk 
 about everywhere upright. In some places there are 
 twenty-four feet of coal, the walls of the passage are 
 black, solid masses of it. 
 
 It is mostly extracted by " falls." An area of fifty 
 feet by fifty is chosen, and the lower half of the bed 
 of coal is removed. Thick pillars of coal are left to 
 support'the roof, and props of wood are placed between 
 the pillars. Holes a^re then drilled in the pillars and 
 finally the props of wood are knocked down and 
 removed. With this the dramatic part of the pro- 
 ceedings begins. The props are knocked down with 
 a sledge-hammer; sometimes the pressure of the roof 
 keeps them fast in their places, and many stout blows 
 are needed to stir them. When all are gone, dynamite 
 cartridges are placed in the holes, with fuses attached, 
 and the fuses are simultaneously lit. There is a minute 
 now left to clear out of the " fall." You cast a hurried 
 glance round before departing; the scene is quiet and 
 solemn, like the crypt of a Norma cathedral, the fuses 
 burning brightly on the pillars. A few seconds later 
 you have taken refuge in a side passage to escape the 
 wind of explosion, and the first report is heard. A 
 cannonade follows and all is silence again. Allowing 
 time for the gases to be dissipated, you return and 
 
NORTHERN INDIA 159 
 
 behold a mountain of shattered coal, with a clear roof 
 of sandstone above it. 
 
 Not always, however, do the blasting operations 
 proceed so smoothly. Sometimes the roof is bad, and 
 when the props are withdrawn, it falls in. The miners 
 are always on the watch for this, and the " over-man " 
 (always an Englishman) listens carefully to hear if the 
 mine is " talking." Should things look serious, he is 
 expected to draw the last timber himself, and even to 
 light most of the fuses with his own hands. 
 
 Accidents, however, are rare in the Bengal mines, 
 and, on the whole, the work appeared to me more 
 pleasant than I expected. The ventilation is good, 
 though there are some warm and some smelly places; 
 there is not much discomfort from water. The labourers 
 I met, men and women, seemed frank and hearty people, 
 not oppressed by there calling. More than once I 
 bethought myself that democracy is born of industrial 
 experience, on one side at any rate, and I seemed to 
 hear as it were from the cradle the faint cry of an 
 infant. Did I not find Brahmans working in the pits 
 at Giridih — ^and sweepers drawing plans in the offices? 
 Yes; mirabile dictUj there was a missionary not far 
 away who had discovered his sweeper's boy draw- 
 ing a head (like young Giotto) to amuse himself ; 
 and he forthwith had the child " educated " for a 
 draftsman. 
 
 Most of the labourers are Santals. They do not 
 altogether forsake their old habits. Each of them has 
 a rice patch above the mine and, according to the 
 season of the year, he is a collier or a field labourer. 
 Wages run about nine to twelve rupees a month, plus 
 the rice patch, plus " half a basket " of coal per day 
 
160 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 per man or woman — but what is "half a basket?" 
 You would think it was a good deal if you saw the 
 Santali women carrying it home of an evening. Some 
 day the mines will be exhausted;, the engineers will 
 wing their way elsewhere, and another chapter in the 
 secular history of Giridih will close. 
 
 Meanwhile things are developing, and more and more 
 coal is raised and carried off. As I saw it disappearing 
 I pondered much over the mystery of its origin., Science 
 (overcareful to conceal its ignorance), has never told 
 us what coal is, because, it does not know. This much 
 it knows, that the alchemy of nature has' somehow 
 transmuted wood into coal, and so stored up a thousand 
 treasures which the inventive arts of man have not yet 
 explored. I refer you to the ' ' Encyclopaedia ' ' for the uses 
 of coal, which is still the source of almost all our light 
 and heat and motive and locomotive ppwer, besides dyes 
 and drugs and manures. The last product of the 
 colliery is sulphate of ammonia, a perfect talisman in 
 the hands of the farmer. When I was at Giridih they 
 were putting up a modern plant for the treatment of 
 coal. There was a huge machine for pounding it int9 
 slabs, and a range of ovens where each slab was heated 
 till it gaVe off its products. Amongst these were gas 
 to work the mine, and gas to yield numerous chemicals, 
 besides the residual coke still useful as fuel. We are 
 only beginning to understand the economical use of 
 coal ; I suppose we still waste more than ninety per 
 cent of what we raise. Nowhere is waste, the universal 
 crime both of nature and man, more conspicuous or 
 more serious. 
 
 I close my recollections of Giridih in a lighter vein, 
 transcribing a letter which my host there had received 
 
NORTHERN INDIA 161 
 
 from his dhobi. He had discharged that fuactionary, 
 and this was the result : 
 
 " Sir, 
 
 I beg most respectfully to inform you that I have been dis- 
 charged from your disposal. So I request the favour of your to 
 taking me in the same. Because I am a poor man and have no 
 one to support. I hope only you and have a large nuniber of 
 families whom my best exciorsion cannot maintain except you, 
 and even my own living. I have no other means to maintain 
 ourselves in such a famine, you are my master, lord and parents 
 to support me. I have given up all the Baboo's, only for you. 
 ' Now, when I go before them, they refused. At the time when 
 I have been discharged, dieing for hunger. I therefore request 
 that would be kind enough to appoint me again. I have the 
 best compliment to you. 
 
 I remain. 
 Your most obedient servant 
 
 Abdul Dhobi." 
 
 I always maintain that English is the easiest language 
 in the world to write badly, but perhaps I am wrong. 
 
 A word now of the Santals. These interesting bar- 
 barians occupy Chutia Nagpur, a savage tract of land 
 which borders on Bengal. Who they are or where 
 they come from, nobody knows. Their own traditions 
 (which they preserve with some secrecy) yield us no 
 light on the subject; their language is vaguely said to 
 resemble Turkish. They have never come under the 
 influence of the " Hindit " system; they do not venerate 
 the cow, or respect Brahmans, or^ believe in reincarna- 
 tion. They eat living things (not excepting red ants 
 and snakes), and, though they have plenty of customs, 
 seem to be free from " caste scruples." Their religion 
 is Animism; that is to say, theii; dealings with the 
 unseen world consist for the most part in pacifying evil 
 spirits. 
 
 In appearance, they are not, as far as I could judge, 
 distinguished by strongly marked features like the 
 
 L 
 
162 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 Todas. Their temper is bright and sociable. Their 
 houses are jthe cleanest and most attractive I have seen 
 in India. Each is surrounded by a wall, which is kept 
 in careful repair; the court-yard is clean and smooth. 
 I do not think you would find better quarters of the 
 kind anywhere in the world. 
 
 In the main, their morality is strict, but once a year 
 they have a saturnalia; thus writes the Gazetteer on 
 the subject. " The Ho population are at other seasons 
 quiet and reserved in manner, and in their demeanour 
 towards women gentle and decorous. Even in the 
 flirtations I have spoken of, they never transcend the 
 bounds of decency. The girls have innate notions of 
 propriety that make them modest in demeanour, 
 though devoid of all prudery, and of the obscene abuse 
 so frequently heard from the lips of common women in 
 Bengal, they appear to have no knowledge. But they 
 throw all this aside during the Magh feast. Sons and 
 daughters revile their parents in gross language, and 
 parents their children ; men and women become almost 
 like animals in the indulgence of their amorous pro- 
 pensities. They enact all that was ever portrayed by 
 prurient artists in a Bacchanalian or Pandean orgy." 
 
 This notion of purifying the soul by an occasiojial 
 indulgence in passion is one of the most general and, 
 at the same time, one of the most curious in the history 
 of humanity. Though condemned by the Christian 
 system, the device is not without value, and possibly 
 survives in western civilisation more than we suppose 
 (like other Pagan ideas). It was accepted by Aristotle 
 as the foundation of his theory of tragedy, which, in 
 his view, released the soiil from terror and pity by 
 giving a rein to these emotions. 
 
JSrORTHEIlN INDIA 163 
 
 The Santals in their jungles live a good deal on the 
 flower of the mahua tree. This appears in January; it 
 falls from the tree during the night and is collected in 
 the morning and pressed into cakes. The result is a 
 brownish product, which looks and tastes something 
 like raisins. If the Chinese had this at their disposal 
 they would put it up in tasteful boxes and sell it all 
 over the world. 
 
 The jungles of Chutia Nagpur contain also ebony 
 and sal trees, the latter furnishing timber of the greatest 
 value. One sees many miles of it from Bengal-Nagpur 
 Railway, not without wishing that it grew in western 
 India, somewhere — anywhere — ^between Bombay and 
 Delhi. Timber is going to be a scarce commodity in 
 the world not long from view. 
 
 I see now, approaching Nagpur, the end of my travels 
 and the last topic of this article. I was drawn there 
 chiefly by the Berar Exhibition, and was pleased to 
 find that it was well worth seeing. My chief criticism 
 on the arrangement is, that the entrance fee — eight 
 annas — -was too high. In spite of this, however, the 
 attendance was excellent — ^after the first few days; 
 rumours of bombs and riots kept the peasantry away 
 at first, and they had heard no doubt how the Queen's 
 statue had been destroyed. Wrestling matches (among 
 other attractions) were arranged, and hundreds of 
 spectators watched them. It was a good chance to see 
 the Berar peasant try ; they were a sturdy crowd and 
 looked more prosperous than the cultivators of the 
 western Deccan, who have passed through so many hard 
 years of late. 
 
 The exhibits were chiefly agricultural. There were 
 examples of all the insect plagues of the country, 
 
164 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 displaying tlieir life history, with . suggestions for 
 destroying them. There were implements suitable for 
 Indian conditions, which attracted much interest and 
 sold readily. Specially popular were threshing and 
 winnowing' machines ; for recent changes have made 
 labour dear, and economical methods are beginning to 
 be so"ught after. The chief difficulty connected with 
 these machines, is popular ignorance regarding the care 
 of them and the absence of workshops for repairs. 
 Nevertheless things are on the move, not only depart- 
 mentally, but otherwise. I heard a tale of four men in 
 the jungle who bought a steel sugar-mill some years 
 ago E^nd sent the local blacksmith into Nagpur and 
 had him taught how to mend it — a small matter but the 
 beginning of progress. And undoubtedly there was 
 much real stimulus in the Berar Exhibition. 
 
 Very interesting were the hand-looms, which represent 
 the weavers last /stand against the power-loom. The 
 battle is nbt yet quite decided; but I am afraid the 
 power-loom will win. Now, if there is one industrial 
 development which I abhor, it is the cotton-mill. The 
 mechanical nature of the work in it, the infernal uproar ; 
 the dust, the long hours; the home conditions of city 
 life, all these features combine to make up a scene of 
 human toil which muct indeed console and divert the 
 Fiend. If matters can be improved, well and good; 
 otherwise let us, if possible, preserve the hand-loom 
 and the village weaver. One doubts if it is possible ; 
 but a gallant struggle^is going on. Various devices, 
 simple and complicated, might be seen in Nagpur, with 
 anxious eyesi watching them. 
 
 The educational section was poor; but I suppose the 
 day of education will some day come in India. It has 
 
KORTHERN INDIA 165 
 
 not arrived yet but the situation has some paradoxical 
 features. If you loolc at the' amount of money donated 
 to education in India, you Avill suppose there is iplenty 
 of interest in education abroad. But if you look for 
 the interest, you will not find it. You will find that 
 money is forthcoming in Bombay to build a Science 
 Institute; but if you wanted members to form an 
 association for the improvement of science teaching, 
 you woul,d be lucky if you could get together two. 
 Yet what " Science " means in itself; what it means 
 or should mean at school ; what outfit is wanted ; where 
 it can be procured in India; what methods are possible 
 or suitable with boys — these are questions which have 
 not yet been raised in this country. 
 
 The reader may think I am wrong; I will give him 
 one example, of many, to show him the evidence for 
 my view. Years ago I found in an English magazine 
 an account of a wooden model which illustrated in a 
 striking way the relation between the algebraic and 
 geometrical expressions of the same truth. I had a 
 copy of the model made, and every year since it has been 
 shown to the Training College students in Bombay. 
 I reprinted the article in Indian Education, with a notice 
 that similar models might be bought from the College 
 of Science in Poona for one rupee — under cost price. 
 
 How many models have been sold from that institu- 
 tion lip to date? Not one. 
 
 No; there is not yet much interest in education in 
 India. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 
 
 " I speak of Africa and Golden Joys." 
 
 Descending the companion of s.s. Gouverneur ( 
 Christmas Day, 1908, I saw before me, at the end 
 an alley-way, the map of Africa; for the first time 
 my life the image of that mighty Continent rose upi 
 my mind. I scanned its size, and set my thoughts 
 order to explore it. India vanished; Africa deploy 
 upon the scene, marshalled in by a music of presen 
 ments and hopes. 
 
 Come with me then, O reader, ten days across t 
 ocean. Tgn days of halcyon weather and peace ; 
 ladies aboardl a good table, pleasant company, a; 
 Eber's autobiography; thanks be to destiny, whi 
 does sometimes grant us such lucid intervals of lii 
 My very tobacco was Boer tobacco, the gift of a fello 
 passenger, wherewith I smoked away Anglo-India a 
 conjured up the veldtj I listened to the Swakeli arou 
 me, and learned to say Cuja happa instead of idhar i 
 All things changed. We crossed the line, lye sight 
 the lights of Mombasa^, and with the morning we stepp 
 upon the shore. 
 
 Mombasa is an island that fits closely into the co 
 
 of Africa, like a piece of a puzzle. Such islands an 
 
 feature of the Continent, though rarely do the openir 
 
 166 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 167 
 
 near them afford good harbours. This is the case at 
 Mombasa. There is a break in the coral reef that fringes 
 the shore, and ships can enter both sides of it. They 
 have to be careful, especially sailing ships — one barque 
 was wrecked during my visit, and many dhows come to 
 grief annually. 
 
 The view from land and sea alike is beautiful. The 
 coast is high, of spongy volcanic tufa. For many ages 
 the waves have been at work upon it, undercutting the 
 rock, till it is full of caves and crevices. Long creepers 
 hang down above the water, showing in brilliant con- 
 trast with the sea, and everywhere against the sky stand 
 out the drooping plumes of palms. The town belongs 
 to the old Arab type, with tiers of white walls and 
 gables ; its international character is marked by the flags 
 of the consulates. Conspicuous above the rest is that of 
 Zanzibar, whose Sultan is still nominal ruler. It waves 
 over the fort, a square massive structure that fronts 
 the sea. 
 
 We land in boats — not without a wetting in the mon- 
 soon — and, mounting a steep incline from the customs, 
 make for our quarters. Through the narrow streets of 
 the town we reach the open land behind, where the 
 European lives, as he prefers to live, in a bungalow 
 with a garden round it. The first note of Africa that 
 catches the eye is the baobab tree, which even now 
 marks the wanderings of the Habshi -across the ocean. 
 Our means of transport are trollies, which run on narrow 
 lines through all the streets. They are pushed along 
 by boys — ^as no sort of animal can exist in Mombasa. 
 [Yes; in Mombasa neither horse nor ox nor ass works 
 for man; kindly nature absolves them, through the 
 agency of " disease "; here man must bear his own 
 
168 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 burdens; wouid that I could console the horses of Naples 
 
 with a vision of the trolley boys of Mombasa.] 
 
 Well, whether you settle in a bungalow or in the 
 
 Club, you can take your ease amid pleasant influences 
 
 in Mombasa. Gently fanned by thfe sea breeze, you can 
 
 watch the lazy pageant of the skies, the blue coquetting 
 
 with the green in the water, the lines of foam that circle 
 
 round the cliffs. If only you are making enough to live 
 
 on, you can compromise with the Evil One, and find 
 
 a good substitute for happiness. I suppose nothing but 
 
 the want of pence ever vexes people there. True, the 
 
 meat is rather tough, water scarce, the plantains and 
 
 • 
 mangoes indifferent, but fish is excellent, Goanese cooks 
 
 make the best of things, while the dew of Highland 
 
 hills, and the wine of Algiers, cheer equally the British 
 
 merchants and the fathers of the Jloman Church. In 
 
 Bombay, may be, we excel in architecture; there is 
 
 nothing in Mombasa to equal the regenerate side of 
 
 Hornby Road, but, for comfort, give me Mombasa. 
 
 True, once more, you are out of the world there. 
 
 Steamers arrive now and then, and telegrams hang in 
 
 a corner of the Club, announcing wars and rumours of 
 
 wars in Europe; no one is so foolish as to read them. 
 
 If any theme vexes men's minds, it is the predominance 
 
 of a place called Nairobi. Still, this is not acutely felt, 
 
 there is so much in Mombasa to be thankful for. An 
 
 official called the Town Clerk keeps the place clean. I 
 
 :annot think how he does it. For old Mombasa much 
 
 resembles Bombay, Calcutta- and Madras, which are not 
 
 ind never will be clean. I should like to take our City 
 
 Fathers to smell Mombasa. Perhaps they would not like 
 
 it. They would miss the odours of the Kalbadevi Road. 
 
 People are fined four annas in Mombasa if they . 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 169 
 
 But Mombasa is by no means Africa ; it is a fragment 
 of the aggressive East. Tiie real Africa lies inland, 
 where every circumstance makes it difficult to reach. It 
 is fortfied with a triple rampart, the inhospitable coast, 
 the desert belt and the mountains. Once you have left the 
 fringe of palm trees, you plunge into the Taru Desert, 
 fifty miles broad, that stretches the whole length of the 
 country. It is not a sandy waste^likei the Sahara, but a 
 dense thicket of spiny acacia trees, with an undergrpwth 
 of brambles. Not even in the rainy season does water 
 lie there, if you are to march across it you must take your 
 water with you. In good sooth, I have not seen so 
 fell a jungle throughout the whole of India. I believe 
 it is full of jinnees and revengeful spirits of the dead. 
 The old slave route lay across it, here was the culmina- 
 ting scene in the long march from the highlands. Here 
 the last victim sank down and perished, and here for ever 
 the living abandoned hope. 
 
 Not long ago there was a convict station beyond it, 
 and once upon a time five convicts ran away and tried 
 to cross this desert to Mombasa. The ground, which 
 was afterwards examined, told #he story of their fate; 
 they were marked down by a lion, who devoured them 
 all in the course of three nights. Night after night the 
 survivors saw each other mangled ; they could not break 
 the chain that fastened them, and the living had to carry 
 the fragments of the dead. (It is wonderful what men 
 will do for liberty. There was a Boer prisoner who 
 escaped from Trichinopoly inside the night-soil cart.) 
 
 Nowadays we cross this TarU Desert by the excellent 
 Uganda Railway. This railway is perhaps the only 
 philanthropjc railway in the world, and perhaps the 
 largest philanthropic enterprise ever carried through 
 
170 m FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 by man. I will riot expect the reader to believe this; 
 nevertheless it is true. At the Brussels Conference 
 in 1890, the great powers decided that the only way to 
 stop the slave trade was to make a railway into Africa, 
 and meet the slaves on their own ground. The Uganda 
 Railway was accordingly made, by England, at a cost 
 of about ;^6,ooo,ooo, as her share in this policy. It was 
 not meant to pay and has never paid ;* but it killed the 
 slave trade. 
 
 The figure of its cost is high ; the critics say too high; 
 you may judge for yourself; the marvel is that it was 
 made at all. It crosses the Taru Desert, and twice it 
 scales eight thousand feet of mountain heights; the 
 country penetrated provides little water, no food and 
 no native labour. The whole region was infested by 
 countless lions, and the fighting tribe of Masai, of whom 
 one prophet asserted that they would spear a white man 
 for every mile of rails that was laid. Prophets, howevef, 
 like critics, are fallible ; the loss was heavy, but not fatal, 
 and the railway was made. 
 
 Many quaint tales are told of its early days. The 
 lions were a perpetual, nuisance, and occasionally they 
 got their, bellyful of coolies.f Especially did they plague 
 the stations, and urgent telegrams passed up and down 
 the line, notifying their presence. 
 
 " Urgent. Makindu. To Traffic Manager. 
 
 August 17th, 1.45 A.M. 
 
 Lion is ori platform ; please instruct Guard and Driver 
 to proceed carefully. Guard to advise passengers 
 not to get out here." 
 
 * Since the epoch of white settlement the increase in freight 
 carried pays working costs. 
 + In one locality, Tsavo, fifty-five were eaten. 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 171 
 
 " Urgent. Makindu. To Traffic Manager. 
 
 7.25 P.M. 
 Pointsman is surrounded by two lions while return- 
 ing from distant signal. Hence pointsman went 
 on top of telegraph post near water tanks. Train 
 to stop there and take him on train." 
 
 and so oh. From what quiet Indian village did this 
 stationmaster come? And does he still enjoy his pen- 
 sion and try the faith of his old neighbours with those 
 tales of Africa? I have found a poem by an Indian 
 clerk of those days: 
 
 To Africa. 
 " Satan's own Pandemoniufn thou art, 
 
 Africa ! Thy barren' wastes, Nature's worst part, 
 Thy scorching fields and thy waterless tracts 
 Can never be improved by human arts. 
 As thou art, thou must always' be, a waste, 
 A home for monkey, Darwin's human beast; 
 Nature, to show how bad a place could be. 
 Heaved thee up from the bottom of the sea." 
 
 Crossing; the Taru Desert, at least, one can sym- 
 pathise. The railway, however, is always -steadily 
 rising, the jungle grows narrow, the air cools, and at 
 last on a grassy plain we reach Nairobi. The height is 
 five thousand feet. Beyond this are Kikuyu Hills. Here 
 one could compare this scenery with that of Ootaca- 
 mund or even of England. There are long rolling hills, 
 with clusters of trees and perennial brooks; the pre- 
 vailing hue is green. Further on we suddenly descend 
 into the Rift Valley. 
 
 We are now on a notable spot of the earth's surface, 
 which has a book to itself* — indeed there are a multitude 
 of books on East Africa. To understand its interest we 
 must observe that East Africa, like the Deccan, is 
 covered with a cap of volcanic rock, and here the outer 
 *"The Rift Valley." By Gregory. 
 
172 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 crust has fallen in, leaving a valley that runs for hun- 
 dreds of miles, north and south. The sides are formed 
 by steep escarpments, mountain walls, covered with 
 forests. One. of these the railway descends, for it has 
 to cross this valley, and it scales the opposite side. In 
 the valley is Nakuru, on a treeless grassy plain; beyond 
 it is the summit of the second rise, eight thousand feet 
 high. From this the railway descends to the great lake 
 (three thousand six hundred and fifty feet). Here, once 
 more, we are unmistakably in the tropics; a fertile 
 country, hot and moist, with wood and water in 
 abundance. 
 
 You do not see the best of the scenery from the rail- 
 way; to enjoy that you must go off " on Safari." What^ 
 then, is a "Safari"? The word means a tour, or, 
 otherwise, the tourist and his followers, specially his 
 followers. We call the affair in India " coolie march- 
 ing." To Anglo- Africans the word is redolent of 
 African memories. When you start off on Safari you 
 still face the wilderness, after the manner of your prede- 
 cessors. You may be off for a week, for six months, or 
 a pefipd of yearsi; be the period long or short, you must 
 take with you all that you expect to need. You will 
 have no chance to replehish anything. Your tent and 
 furniture, your food, clothes, books, instruments, 
 and medicines, all must go with you, and of course 
 your rifles and your cartridges. All must be 
 packed in sixty pound loads, for there are neither 
 roads nor transport animals, and everything must be 
 hoisted on the heads of porters. 
 
 As for these porters, they are partly professionals and 
 partly ordinary, Shensisf who come more or less re- 
 
 + Shenzi is the general term for a raw negro of the interior. 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 173 
 
 calcitrant to an unaccustomed task. The professional 
 porters in old days foregathered at Zanzibar; they are 
 no longer engaged there now, and as a class they are 
 dying out. Different travellers have given different 
 accounts of them. I believe myself they are a set of 
 sturdy rogues. Hard they certainly were ; none but hard 
 men could have faced the horrors of an old-fashion'ed 
 march through Africa. Often, no doubt, they were 
 slaves who were flogged out of Mombasa under an escort 
 of soldiers, till they had crossed the Taru Desert and 
 could not desert if they wanted to. But in later times they 
 went willingly, with a fixed determination to be masters 
 if they could, and make their money as easily as possible. 
 The first few days were a trial of strength between them 
 and their employers. When the victory was decided, 
 by force of character and strong will, they settled down 
 to work, and in the main they worked well. They 
 carried their sixty pounds fifteen or twenty miles a 
 day ; ate their scanty rations, slept on the ground, and 
 endured all things to the end; the sun, the freezing 
 heights, the waterless plains, the thickets, and the filthy 
 swamps. They were always perishing from disease and 
 animals; one shudders to think of their fate when they 
 fell ill. They were left with " friendly " natives, to 
 be sold into slavery if they recovered; or merely dis^ 
 carded, to starve to death ; or sometimes — ^a humane 
 proceeding — shot on the spot. 
 
 Not all travellers acted thus. Joseph Thomson, it is 
 said, in all his wanderings, never directly or indirectly 
 caused the death of a native. I cannot think Living- 
 stone ever did so. But there is a significant sentence 
 of Lugard's: " I have never seen anything approaching 
 the carelessness of human life and callousness to human 
 
174 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 suffering which characterises some methods of African 
 travel." 
 
 Be it remembered that the leaders of these expeditions 
 suffered pretty much what they inflicted. Livingstone, 
 who never wrote for effect, mentions casually that at 
 one place the water " presented indications not to be 
 mistaken of having passed through animal systems 
 before." He put up with it, as he put up with other 
 things. Travellers in the present day are seldom so 
 hard tested. The art of travel has developed, and every- 
 one, nowadays, besides good maps, has a thousand 
 appliances that were unknown a generation ago. 
 Hardihood and resource are still needed in Africa, but 
 the sufferings and dangers of the past are over. 
 
 My own little experiments in Safari were very 
 pleasant. I had a comfortable tent, a good cook, and 
 willing porters, better than I have known in India, save 
 in Kashmir. Once or twice I was short of water, but, 
 adopting the views of African travellers, I agreed to 
 consider any fluid satisfactory that permitted me to 
 see the bottom of the bucket. I did not sigh for the 
 pot, but lived luxuriously on tinned sausages. The 
 weather was propitious throughout. 
 
 Many a pleasant day passed, but specially do I re- 
 member the forests in the Nandi Hills. They were not 
 very large,''but full of splendid trees — cedar, polycarpous 
 and others — noble pieces of timber. Their last hour is 
 drawing nigh ; civilisation does not suffer such things 
 to exist, and the axe -is closely laid to their roots. Not 
 that civilisation is their only enemy, the sava;ge too 
 assails them, but his methods of devastation are feebler 
 than ours. 
 
 A forest is a mute image of life. Few trees in it are 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 175 
 
 perfect, most have suffered something from their neigh- 
 bours. Few are healthy, but all struggle to heal them- 
 selves. Here and there one' is favoured by fortune and 
 overtops his fellows, yet born so he is not more 
 beautiful than the fern that shelters in his roots. 
 
 " It is not growing, like a tree, 
 In bulk, doth make man fitter be ; 
 Or standing like an oak three hundred years, 
 To fall at last dry, bald and sere ; 
 
 A lily of a day 
 
 Is fairer far in May, 
 Although it fall and die that night 
 It was the plant and flower of light." 
 
 A sentimental love of forests has more or less diffused 
 
 itself among English people to-day. To our ancestors 
 
 they were places of discomfort and danger, not exempt 
 
 from supernatural perils. There is a picture of forest 
 
 life in the, ballad oi the " Nutbrown Maid," and Scott 
 
 recalls it in " Alice Brand" : 
 
 " Now we must hold by woord and wort 
 
 As outlaws wont to do. ' 
 
 Now I must teach to hew the beech 
 
 The hand that held the slave. 
 For leaves to spread our lowly bed 
 
 And roughs to thatch our cave. 
 And for best of pall the fingers small, 
 
 That wont on hoop to stray, 
 A cloak must shear from the slaughtered deer, 
 
 To keep the cold away." 
 
 But we do not read these things in the spirit in which 
 they were written. We please ourselves with a picture 
 of the outlaw's freedom, with tales of Robin Hood's 
 generosity; and we sigh for the happiness of a life 
 where man escapes from his fellow men and meets no 
 enemy but the wind and the weather. O, day-dreams 
 of the fretful world, are you less foolisih than the fairy- 
 tales of the nursery? 
 As long as you know where you are going, there is 
 
176 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 nothing unfriendly in the jungle. Trees, rocks, and 
 flowers blend into one delightful picture, while the mind 
 surveys at ease. But once lose your way I Then soon 
 you will find, if you are not a veteran at this kind of 
 warfare, a strange hostility pervading the scene. Every 
 , moment you look at it your confusion will redouble. 
 You will question every one for direction, and how 
 often you will question in vain. Keep your self- 
 possession. You will find yourself prompted to ascend 
 the highest point , near you , feeling that that is the 
 enemy, once you are over it you will surely descry 
 your lost way again. So, if you are foolish, you may 
 waste your time and energy in scaling it, and when you 
 have done so you will see the wilderness mocking you 
 beyond it. Pathetic tales are told of lost children who 
 have followed such impulses, and travelled incredible 
 distances up mountains before they sank down and died. 
 I have never seriously missed my way, but more than 
 once on the Uas N'gishu I was not sure of it, and I 
 pretended to myself that I was lost. This Uas N'gishu 
 is a plain in the, north-east of the country, about thirty 
 miles each way, open, treeless, and slightly undulating. 
 You are generally marching through a low valley, with 
 nothing in sight but the sky-line half A mile off. Now, 
 one day, under a blazing sun, I marched about fifteen 
 miles in this way, and began to wonder where I was 
 going to get to. The Safari did not know, there was 
 no one to ask, and the only persons who did know 
 were the animals round us. 
 
 The said animals were chiefly zebras and cong6nis.* 
 I should not have thought the whole realm, of nature 
 
 * The cong6ny is a queer, ugly kind of antelope, about the size 
 of a cow.' It runs with a prancing motion and stops every few 
 yards to loofi at you. 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 177 
 
 contained so many of them. The sky-line was crowded 
 with motionless figures, so, too, the middle distance and 
 the foreground, up to a few yards of us. The zebras 
 kept on grazing, but every single cong6ni kept fixed 
 upon us a long, intense imperishable stare. They stared 
 as though they never could see enough of us, and 
 kept running on to every bit of rising ground to get 
 a better view. Not a sound proceeded from them, and 
 their silent curiosity begari to disquiet me. They looked 
 like spirits of the waste, assembled to watch us perish, 
 and I really believe something of the kind was in their 
 thoughts, for next day, when we knew where we were 
 going, they followed us no more. 
 
 Now much else might I write bf the scenery of north- 
 east Africa, of the mountain lake, of Nakuru, the snowy 
 peaks of Kenia, faintly visible from Nairobi and the 
 round Knott of Kilimanjaro. The last is clearly seen 
 from the railway, a huge but monotonous and dis- 
 appointing mass. To sum up, however, I will only say 
 that the scenery is varied and in many places attractive, 
 but falls short of the highest beauty. It wants aerial 
 colour, a charm which we feel in some, and miss in 
 others, but can never explain. There are few flowers, 
 and few of them very striking. Blue lotuses swim in 
 the tanks and lilies grow here and there, but, as a rule, 
 the flowers of the country are either " inconspicuous " 
 or heavy, stiff " compositas." There is nothing you 
 could call, or would like to call, the emblem of Africa. 
 One thing I may note, in the Kavirondo country, when 
 the rains break, you have something like spring weather. 
 The days are mostly clear, and the flowers in the grass 
 remind one of England. Throughout the country the 
 sunsets are often fine. 
 
 M 
 
178 , IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 No, the one rich vein of Africa is its range of wild 
 animals. Perhaps, in the remote past of the world, there 
 was an epoch of sub-human races, and perhaps Africa 
 is a survival from this past. I know not; certainly 
 within the memory of man no part of the world in this 
 point has resembled it. As the streets of London are 
 thickly peopled with men, so the woods and plains of 
 Africa not long ago were peopled with animals. Not 
 single species but whole battalions occupied the ground. 
 In point of numbers the horned kind came first. Buffaloes, 
 gnus, and antelopes grazed everywhere with herds of 
 giraffes and zebras; elephants, rhinos, and monkeys 
 filled the woods ; crocodiles and hippos the streams. All 
 these satisfied jthemselves with grass and leaves; lions 
 and leopards throve at their expense. All lived un- 
 molested by man (for few of the negroes were hunters), 
 and they multiplied up to the natural limits of the 
 ground. 
 
 Something of this kind can still be seen in places, 
 even from the trains on the Uganda Railway. On one 
 side of this there is a large reserve, and tlje animals graze 
 right up to the line. They have found from experience 
 that the queer monster that snorts along it is harmless, 
 and they let it pass by almost unnoticed. 
 
 Nevertheless, that train carries on it the arch-enemy 
 of their kind, destructive and unbridled man. It is 
 marvellous what has been done in a few years to ex- 
 terminate the game of Africa. This has partly been 
 the works of the Boers, who have killed off everything 
 for food and leather j and partly the work of sportsmen, 
 who limited their depredations only by the number of 
 cartridges they could carry. 
 
 The present policy of our Government it to preserve 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 179 
 
 the game for revenue purposes, charging a license for 
 a limited bag, and forbidding sport within certain areas. 
 This isi much censured by the settlers, who dislike the 
 existence of game near them. These wild creatures do 
 not respect fences, they devour crops and scatter stock, 
 besides encouraging and spreading disease. The 
 settlers hold, therefore, that game should go, and with- 
 out doubt this view, sooner or later, will prevail. 
 
 I do not controvert it, for " Eat to be eaten " is the 
 choice, and the settlers are not Buddhists. Neverthe- 
 less, the world will be less interesting without the 
 Scscla ferarum, and I am glad to have lived in the 
 picturesque present rather than in the prosaic future. 
 Will not our children have lost something when the 
 lion has passed away? What animal has served the 
 porch and the sculptor and painter so well? Shakes- 
 peare is full of images from the lion's mein and attri- 
 butes, and, save man alone, no animal has b.een so 
 often represented in plastic art. From Persopolis to 
 Trafalgar Square the king of beasts has been nobly 
 handled, though one thinks the old Persian lion is the 
 finest of all. I would like to have a book full of lions, 
 with lions' heads from Hindu temples, and heraldic 
 lions rampant and couchant, and those stiff but haughty 
 lions of St Mark's. Yet I cannot remember that Greece 
 or Rome ever took much interest in lions — though one 
 may think they ought to have done. But the course of 
 history goes not by rule ; else why should the Buddhists 
 have cared for lions? -And the finest work of art in 
 India is the four-headed lion of Sarnath. 
 
 Of his character men speak variously, according, per- 
 chance as they have met hungry lions or lions seeking 
 repose after a meal. Yet it seems a fact that he doe§ 
 
180 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 npt willingly try conclusions with man. We cannot 
 now believe that he scorns to harm a virgin, and our 
 age, which is credulous enough, smiles at Androcle's 
 story. But his mein is kingly as of yore, we can attri- 
 bute nothing to a monarch of men more impressive than 
 a "lion port and eagle eye." 
 
 Most visitors to East Africa make it their first busi- 
 ness to pursue and slay him. This is easier done now 
 than it used to be, before saltpetre was invented. It 
 was something for Alexander to face a lion with a spear, 
 and it is something for the African savage to face him 
 on 'the same terms. The modern hunter with his battery, 
 of rifles has the odds on his side. Yet sometimes the 
 animal wins, and, the lion of the fable might sometimes 
 find a theme for his painter's brush. 
 
 I challenged no lion myself, and rarely saw one. 
 Nevertheless, one day, on the Uas N'gishu, finding 
 three Dutchmen building a house, I paused to ask them 
 if they wanted a school, and they answered that school- 
 ing would be a difficult matter in a country where school 
 children might be snapped up by lions. " Last night," 
 said their leader, "dere was ten of dem in dat bush." 
 Arid as he spoke, lo ! two lions emerged and began sport- 
 ing on the grass. There was a call to arms, large dogs 
 congregated with joyous barks, and all promised well for 
 a fray, when — the two lions went back into the bush, 
 and joined, I suppose, the other eight. , Alas, O reader, 
 that I have nothing better to tell you, in this hiatter of 
 Shikar stories. I must be the only tourist who 'ever re- 
 tired from East Africa so ill-provided. There, men 
 
 " Talk as familiarly of roaring lions 
 As maids of thirteen do of puppy dogs." 
 
 Nevertheless, I 3h&U tell vou this, that at a certain 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 181 
 
 station on the line, three men did once sit up to shoot a 
 lion and all three falling asleep, the lion entered and took 
 her choice of them. One of the party woke up, and saw 
 the lion vanish through the window with a comrade. 
 And once again a lion ate a n\an in his tent and drank 
 up his bath water. There are excellent lion stories in 
 Sir Charles Elliott's book. 
 
 But I grow tedious. To proceed, the buffalo is more 
 fierce and aggressive than the lion ; the rhino charges 
 more promptly when he scents a foe. He counts no odds 
 too heavy ; a rhino once derailed a train. Another rhino 
 charged a chain gang of convicts and carried them off 
 into the bush. Ht, too, perished, for the corpses festered, 
 and the putrefaction entered hig eyes and blinded him. 
 Less costly was the victory of a kinsman, who impaled 
 a surveyor as he peered through a theodolite. 
 
 Elephants still exist, but they will soon be a memory, 
 revived only by piano keys, billiard balls, and waste 
 paper baskets. Quaint and humorous, but useless 
 animals. Their humble antitype, the cony with the 
 prehensile nose, is less useful and less familiar ; he exists, 
 I suppose, to prove the versatility of nature, which 
 moulds the cat and the tiger, the musk deer and the sam- 
 bur, the sprat and the whale. Deer, let me tell you, 
 there are none in Africa, nor bears, nor tigers, though 
 I do not see why the last should not be introduced. 
 
 Birds are few but pretty. There is a black and white 
 crow, there are various symphonies in green, yellow 
 and red. The vile sparrow is absent — hitherto unac- 
 countably; there can be no doubt the climate suits him. 
 The ostrich is found and eiicouraged; one might fill a 
 book with his queer ways. He grows attached to his 
 attendant nigger; and when the nigger sleeps at noon, 
 
182 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 the ostriches sleep round him, instead of feeding, as they 
 ought to, and nourishing their feathers. They live on 
 lucerne and pebbles — if they live at all, for they do not 
 care about living, and ninety-nine per cent of the young 
 ostriches die. So the ostrich farmers say, who take as 
 much trouble to keep the ostriches alive as the hunters 
 to kill the elephants. 
 
 Special, mention is due to the African ants, both the 
 white ants (falsely so-called) and the myriads of black 
 ants. Their varieties and habits present many unsolved 
 questions for the naturalist. The traveller will not 
 easily forget — if he experiences it — a night with the 
 " marching ants." The creatures are a migratory sort; 
 they go forth in armies; nothing turns them from their 
 course, they will rather perish by fire or flood than re- 
 tract. Some night, peradventure, on Safari, you will 
 be awakened in your tent by a curious clicking sound ; 
 as you lie listening to it, you will find yourself seized 
 by myriads of little pincers, and it will not be long 
 before you are out of bed and your tent, dancing 
 naked under the sky, like a painter's nymph. Their 
 visits to houses are not an unmixed evil, as they eat 
 up any other sorts of vermin who may happen to be 
 lodged there. 
 
 From savage animals I shall proceed now to savage 
 men, much doubtful of myself and my knowledge, but 
 invoking the aid of Minerva and Ganapati, and all who 
 come to the rescue of authors. For what do I , and what 
 does anybody, know about savages? To cramp our 
 faculties is as hard as to expand them, and I could as 
 easily tell you how many angels can stand on the point 
 of a needle, as what the Kikuyu and Kavirondo think of 
 things. 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 183 
 
 However, let us approach them externally and see 
 how they strike us. 
 
 To begin with, they are black. The curious observer 
 finds that all are not equally black, even among the 
 same tribes ; some are chocolate, but most are black. In 
 physique they vary. Some tribes are certainly poor; 
 good figures of men and women, as I opine, are rare. 
 Features tend to the Ethiopian type, yet with exceptions. 
 Among all tribes the men either go naked, or take 
 small pains to cover themselves. The woman, as a rule, 
 are dressed, though seldom above the waist. Among 
 the Kavirondo the women, at all ages, go completely 
 naked. Almost all delight in ornaments, men and 
 women alike, but specially men. They rub their bodies 
 with red ochre and mutton fat or castor oil. This, no 
 doubt, is a protection against the weather and against 
 mosquitoes, but it has also in their eyes a handsome 
 effect. 
 
 They live in round huts of mud or wattle, with bee- 
 hive roofs. The arrangements differ in different tribes. 
 Amongst the Kavirondo the walls are carefully pre- 
 pared, the floor is clean, and things are comfortably 
 disposed. The interior is dark, but there is space out- 
 side under the eaves, where people can sit and chat. 
 Other tribes are content to be worse off. The upper 
 part of the hut is a storehouse ; the ceiling comes down 
 to the floor ; you have to crawl through the door on all 
 fours, and, once inside, you must sit, for you cannot 
 stand. Moreover, other tribes descend by various 
 stages to a low level of dirt and foul smells, for it is 
 the custom to procure warmth by introducing sheep at 
 night, and the floor is seldom swept. 
 These huts are not assembled in villages. As a rule 
 
184 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 each man has his own huts near his land ; he builds a 
 separate one for each of his " wives," and surrounds 
 the settlement with a fence. 
 
 In the arts of life the negroes have been content with 
 small progress. They neither spin nor weave. They 
 have neither the potter's wheel nor the carpenter's lathe, 
 nor any wheeled transport. No negro has ever built 
 himself a stone house. Yet in other ways their achieve- 
 ments go far. Their skill in making round things is 
 astonishing. Rings of all kinds, clubs and huts they 
 make perfectly circular, without conscious effort — though ' 
 they have a poor eye for a straight line. Their greatest 
 triumph is in metal-work. They have mastered the art 
 of smelting iron, and know to temper steel. In every 
 tribe there are skilled smiths,* who supply spears and 
 swords and trinkets. The Wakambu, however, excel 
 all others; their chains are as fine and regular as those 
 of European jewellers. 
 
 There is real decorative art among the negroes. 
 They tattoo their bodies tastefully with scars ; some of 
 their headgear is most effective. A species of monkey 
 supplies them with trappings from his black and white 
 skin ; the slayer of a lion wears a head dress of his 
 mane. Beads they purchase from traders, and work up 
 with great judgment. It is their fault, however, to 
 overload themselves with circlets of heavy wire. 
 
 The mode of life in vogue varies. Some tribes are 
 
 pastoral, others agricultural. The line is often drawn 
 
 quite strictly between these pursuits, the pastoral tribes 
 
 esteem it a disgrace to touch a hoe. Hunting tribes 
 
 neither own cattle nor cultivate land; they raid the 
 
 * Strange to say, this profession lies often under a stigma ; 
 those who follow it live apart, and their calling is viewed as a 
 black art. 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 185 
 
 forests and eat what they can kill. Among others, 
 hunting is not used either for pleasure or profit. 
 
 According to the mode of life, the food of tribes 
 varies. Maize and millet are the common grains, the 
 millet being much the same as the Indian jowari. Some 
 of the pastoral tribes, such as the Masai, eat no grain 
 whatever — at least not the men. They live on milk and 
 blood. The blood is drawn from the living animal, by 
 piercing an artery with an arrow; it is swallowed raw, 
 as likewise is the milk; for no African tribe employs 
 any mode of preparing milk. Indeed, it is generally 
 deemed unlucky even to boil milk, for it is thought the 
 process may sympathetically affect the cows. No vege- 
 tables are known, nor any fruit, save here and there the 
 plantain. Africa, so fertile in wild animals, has scarcely 
 one indigenous fruit. The Cape gooseberry is the only 
 one worth mentioning. 
 
 Sugar is grown and the juice made into tembo, an 
 intoxicating drink. In most tribes its use is only per- 
 mitted to the young under restrictions, and at stated 
 times ; the old are allowed to drink themselves into their 
 gravies. 
 
 Like most savages, the people of East Africa show 
 a great tendency to chip and pare among portions of 
 their persons. The Wa;kambu file their teeth to a point.* 
 Other tribes knock out two teeth in their lower jaw. 
 Amongst most, the circumcision of both sexes is prac- 
 tised. This operation is deferred to puberty, and is 
 performed on stated occasions, with no little pomp. In 
 the case of boys their demeanour is watched, and 
 cowardice under the knife is remembered against them. 
 The modus operandi is peculiar, and surgically, interest- 
 * Perhaps in imitation of the totemistic crocodile. 
 
186 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 ing, from a certain latent intelligence displayed in it. 
 Savages are not rationalists, and cannot themselves 
 account for this rite, but science, reasoning on their 
 behalf, suggests variously cleanliness,, fertility, or some 
 religious dedication as the object in view. For my own 
 part, I believe it arose from that tendency to be meddling 
 with their persons, which I have already noted. Perhaps 
 also, some wanton influence has been at work. 
 
 To discuss savage morals is not easy, for what do 
 we mean by savage morals ? And how far do we know 
 what we mean by morals ourselves ? 
 
 As we survey the savages' life, we introduce into it 
 a distinction unknown to him, between his morals and 
 his customs. We perceive that in all his daily actions 
 there are a thousand and one rules to be observed con- 
 cerning the proper ways to perform them. In marriage, 
 the rules minutely circumscribe his choice. In matters 
 of food, they confine him to certain methods of procuring- 
 it, cooking it, and eating it. On every occasion of his 
 life, small and large, they lay down for him the course 
 he is to follow. To us these rules appear in the light 
 of customs; the observance of them does not make a 
 man a moral being. What then does ? 
 
 Our first answer is likely to be that morality means a 
 sense of right and wrong; and it may be asserted that 
 the keeping of a custom does not mean to a savage 
 doing right. Some critics hold that a savage never does 
 right; in following custom he obeys a master, whom, if 
 he could, he would disobey. From this view I would 
 dissent, believing that in the savage conscience is the 
 same thing as in ourselves, that he too hears, as clearly 
 as we, the Categorical Imperative. Nor is he merely 
 the victim of habit ; nor is it harder for him than for us 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 187 
 
 to distinguish the uneasiness of broken habit from the 
 compunction of guilt. 
 
 His defect is partly this, that he has no general 
 views of morality. I do not mean that he has had 
 no philosophers — though morality owes something to 
 philosophy — ^but he has never seen, even concretely, 
 what it is that makes moral conduct moral. He has 
 never said to himself, " what a piece of work is man ! " 
 
 Hence, perhaps, his grossness in sexual matters. 
 Now, against the African, this is perhaps the gravest 
 charge. In these matters he has never grappled with 
 the demon of self-indulgence. Some restraints, no 
 doubt, he has imposed on himself. In some tribes the 
 immature boys are hot allowed to sport with the girls. 
 The married women are not allowed universal license. 
 Some restraints, I say, are recognised. Sexual perver- 
 sion is not common. But, speaking broadly, this sexual 
 license of the African is astounding and appalling. The 
 little girls, from the cradle upwards, suffer the embraces 
 of the warriors; and in some tribes the little boys are 
 allowed much the same liberty. The married women 
 have often a wide field of legitimate choice ; polygamy 
 is universal. 
 
 Now, if fate had ordained it so, this might have 
 been well enough; sexual pleasure might have been the 
 summum bonum, the lode-star of mankind. But fate 
 has ordained it otherwise. The first condition of pro- 
 gress is self-control in these matters, and this condition 
 the African has never grasped. Scarcely, indeed, has 
 any nation grasped it; our armour against the tempta- 
 tions of the flesh is sitrangely woven of false persuasions, 
 and often we fling it off and choose to perish. But the 
 negro has never faced the struggle. Perhaps I should 
 
188 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 not say never, for, as I have said, some restrictions^ he 
 recognises; coition in the open air is generally con- 
 demned ; but on the whole he has never recognised that 
 the lusts of the flesh are enemies of the soul. 
 
 I cannot say that in his person he has suffered as 
 much as he might have done, and ought to have done, 
 though I think the physique of the East African negro 
 is poor ; but surely the poverty of his mind is in some 
 way connected with self-indulgence, and the concentra- 
 tion of his interest on sexual things. His error is that 
 he has not perceived this. We need not demand that 
 he should have reasoned the matter out; it would have 
 been enough if he had taken practical measures to con- 
 trol himself. 
 
 Be it remembered that civilisation has never yet any- 
 where reduced morality to a matter of reason. With 
 many it is still definitely a matter of authority. The 
 Jewish code is still in force. Hedonists and others 
 have tried unsuccessfully to formulate the criteria of 
 Europe. Custom still determines our ideas largely, and 
 no theory holds the field. But we do very generally 
 believe that man's powers were designed for use; that 
 what impairs these powers is wrong : 
 
 " Not enjoyment and not sorrow 
 Is our destined end or way, 
 But to act, that each to-morrow 
 Find us farther than to-day." 
 
 How we judge between actions we do not know. 
 Nature — or Providence — planted in the dawning con- 
 sciousness of mankind instincts against certain actions, 
 and these instincts, when we view them by the light of 
 reason, we see in many cases to have been just. Such 
 is the instinct against incest. The early moral sentiment 
 is confined to protecting such instincts. With the pro- 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 189 
 
 gress of reflection comes the question how far such 
 instincts are true. It is certain mg/iy of them are false, 
 and to cling to them is fatal; it is equally certain that 
 the premature efforts of reason are apt to throw off too 
 much. Between these two perils civiUslation is ever 
 engendered; no formula can save it; we can only trust 
 that the Powers which formed the first judgments of 
 man will not desert him. They will deSert him, how- 
 ever, if he is ever consciously selfish. 
 
 With this word let us turn to the second defect in 
 the negro's morality. He has too little sense of the 
 rights of other men. No doubt, within the tribe there 
 is much unity of sentiment. Some of this is mere 
 gregarious, instinct, subconscious, we may say ; some of 
 it rises higher. But it always remains tribal ; it does 
 not lead to any respect for human nature. 
 
 This is why — or how — the negro puts up with slavery 
 so easily. That he should do so is still a mystery to me. 
 Many tribes of negroes are brave and vigorous, non* 
 of them are servile in manner — ^why are they so easily 
 content with slavery? Partly, perhaps, because slavery 
 has been a comfortable system, and the negro thinks 
 first and last of material comforts; partly because, out- 
 side his tribe, the negro has never conceived any 
 relation of rights between man and man. Outside that 
 circle, I suppose, slavery seems to him inevitable. 
 
 Within it, his cojde of virtues is not small or con- 
 temptible. He recognises courage against men and 
 beasts; truthfulness and honesty towards his neigh- 
 bours. He is generally a kindly creature. Some 
 usages may be quoted against this. He puts to death 
 twins because they are inauspicious; he is apt to carry 
 off the dying and leave them tO die in the jungle, 
 
190 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 Nevertheless, from what I saw in my brief wanderings, 
 and from much that I have heard, I think the negro 
 races are kindly. They are generous over food, and 
 think it a base thing to eat by oneself. They are good- 
 humoured, and easily forget trouble. In fact, they live 
 too much for the moment, and no hero is more needed 
 than a black Prometheus. 
 
 As for the negroes' religion, one's first impression is 
 that they have none. No temples crown the hills, there 
 is no public worship, and no priests or mendicants catch 
 the eye. One could spend a lifetime in the country and 
 believe the people to be atheists. 
 
 I still think this impression would be nearly correct, 
 but in some ways it must be readjusted. The negro 
 believes in supernatural powers, especially in spirits of 
 the dead. In some tribes the ancestors are represented 
 by small stones placed before the huts, to which food 
 and drink are regularly offered. These spirits take 
 under their charge the system ©f customary rules, and 
 punish their violation with disease or misfortune. It is 
 denied that they protect the higher virtues, such as truth- 
 fulness or generosity, but I should like to have personal 
 knowledge on this point. Beyond these we hear a little 
 though very little, of spiritual powers, or " gods " ; and 
 a little also of supreme spirit, or " God." This spirit 
 is conceived as benevolent, and men's relations with 
 Him are certainly religious, if religion means a sense 
 of dependence on God and a desire for protection. Mr 
 Hollis has collected many prayers of Nandiy of which 
 the following is a type : 
 
 God, give us health, 
 
 God, give us milk, 
 
 God, give us power, 
 
 God, give us corn, 
 
 God, give us everything that is good, 
 
 God, guard our children and catQe. 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 191 
 
 This prayer is used when a house is built. We per- 
 ceive that it is very naive, and narrowly materialist. 
 Such are all the prayers quoted by Mr Hollis. There 
 is no prayer for virtue, and no confession of sin — an 
 omission which is curious, especially if it be true that 
 in some tribes there is a sort of confession of sin to 
 " medicine men." 
 
 " Medicine man " is the quaint and cautious term 
 applied by Europeans to those agents through whom 
 the negro communicates with the unseen world. The 
 office is not hereditary, as a rule; the medicine man, 
 like the Hindu Guru, takes pupils. I never saw one, 
 for Government frowns upon the tribe, and they live in 
 retired places. I saw, however, the paraphernalia of 
 one in Uganda. Most of the objects were bones and 
 bits of leather, smeared with dry blood, while many 
 have been the blood of animals. The use of these objects 
 is to assist the medicine men in divination, which is 
 his principal business. He undertakes to trace lost or 
 stolen objects, and his plan of action is to throw these 
 bones about on the floor and observe their motions and 
 the positions they assume. From these he draws his con- 
 clusions. Without doubt he is open to bribery and 
 influence, and sometimes the wrong person suffers from 
 his verdict. He professes, too, the art of spells and 
 enchantments, and his power is much dreaded by the 
 people. 
 
 The true limits of it I cannot surmise. As a believer 
 in these matters, I cannot doubt that savages everywhere 
 possess fragments of occult powers; but the last thing 
 to expect is that they will tell you anything they knew. 
 In spite of many inquiries the only suggestions I heard 
 of were these: The speedy course of news is a mystery. 
 
192 m FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 small details of intelligence pass quickly about the 
 country, perhaps with the aid of clairvoyance. In 
 Uganda, in the old days, w)ien the King's police were 
 out looking for victims, certain medicine men could 
 describe the sort of victims they wanted, and caution 
 their own clients to keep out of the way. I heard an 
 assertion that one well-known European, the " King of 
 the Kikuyu," at a negro seance, witnessed a human 
 materialisation ; and from a hint that I heard, I wish 
 to ask whether banyan trees in Africa ever threw stones 
 at people, as trees do in India sometimes. 
 
 There are, I understand, no traces of a belief in 
 metempsychosis anywhere in Africa. Negroes interest 
 themselves little in the future of the soul, though the 
 Bantu tribes suppose the souls of the deadto watch, in 
 some sort, over the rules of custom and morality. It is 
 also supposed that a man's i^oul quits his body during 
 sleep, for which reason it is dangerous to wake him up 
 rudely. The Chinese have a similar belief, and it is 
 widely diffused among mystics old and new. 
 
 After savage morals and savage religion, we may 
 speak of savage manners. It is a mistake to suppose 
 the negroes have none. In many little ways they show 
 consideration for each other; they have rules of 
 etiquette, principles of courtesy, and they know the 
 difference between good and bad breeding. Young 
 children are not allowed to look their elders in the face 
 when speaking to them ; this is disrespectful. We, too, 
 in the days of old-fashioned manners, thought the same : 
 
 " Louisa, my dear, Mr Manners began. 
 I fear you are learning to stare ! " 
 
 So Louisa was taught the lady-like rriran of keeping 
 her eyes on her friend's lips ; I dare say this would have 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 193 
 
 suited Nandi ideas quite well. It is not considered 
 proper to look in at the door of a hut and pass on 
 without speaking — a. rule with which I sympathise, for 
 such an action is certainly irritating and disquieting to 
 the intnates. Amongst the Nandi I was well pleased 
 with the people's demeanour in the villages, they were 
 pleased to show me everything; and when I gave them 
 a small present they offered me something in return. 
 There were no beggars anywhere; it is only civilised 
 nations that thrust forward their halt and maimed to 
 extract something from the tourist. 
 
 The general practice of going about naked raises 
 
 the question of decency, the prevalence or absence of 
 
 the ideas that certain actions should not be done in 
 
 public. This idea, in various communities of men, is 
 
 attached to very different actions, and different tribes of 
 
 negroes differ much from each other. As a rule, it is 
 
 not considered immodest for men to go about naked, 
 
 nor for women to be naked from the waist upwards. 
 
 Among the Kavirondo both sexes go naked, but other 
 
 tribes disapprove of this. When I visited the 
 
 Kavirondo, I had with me a train of Kikuyu porters, 
 
 and as we descended from the Nandi Hills we met 
 
 suddenly, for the first time in their lives and mine, a 
 
 young woman walking along wholly unadorned. It was 
 
 a hot afternoon ; we were finishing a long march, and 
 
 everyone was thinking of camp as the most desirable 
 
 thing in the world. But I shall never forget how 
 
 wonderfully this fair apparition cheered my dejected 
 
 train. They burst into a joyous laugh, and their tongues 
 
 were unloosed in hilarious comment. I joined the mood 
 
 myself, and many a time amongst the Kavirondo I 
 
 smiled again. Amongst the Kavirondo notions of 
 
 N 
 
194 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 decency do not demand clothes. Except, indeed, a 
 tassel behind; it is not considered proper to expose 
 that part of your person. 
 
 Strict propriety between the sexes is universal, so 
 far as I have seen, and, save for a few doubtftfl wit- 
 nesses, so far as I have heard. Nor have I ever seen 
 any offensive action performed in public; there are 
 nations of Europe which have much to learn from 
 Africa. 
 
 The behaviour of women is free but modest — ^at least 
 in those tribes which have never seen Europeans. There 
 is no vestige of a purdah sense. Here, in fact, the 
 country reminded me of Burma. 
 
 Let me now proceed to sum up my own impressions 
 of the negro. On our first acquaintance, among the 
 Kikuyu, these were unfavourable. The Kikuyu are the 
 most Boeotian of tribes; their women are small and 
 ugly, and their custom of shaving off their eyebrows 
 makes them repulsive. Their clumsy bath dress is re- 
 pulsive. They are also the dirtiest of negroes, and the 
 smelliest. The Ethiopian smell is celebrated in history 
 and romance, and it is no traveller's tale. Like all 
 smells, it must be smelt to be realised, so I will only 
 say that it blended with the colour and other circum- 
 stances of the Kikuyu into a whole that made me 
 shudder. I really felt after a few days amongst them 
 that the Author of Evil must have created the negro to 
 mock mankind, as Vishwamitra created buffaloes to 
 impair the prestige of cows. 
 
 Well, in a measure, this passed away. I met tribes 
 more attractive than the Kikuyu, I learned more of the 
 interesting sides of their life, and, above all, I saw 
 them wholly in that natural environment apart from 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 195 
 
 the disadvantageous contrast with Europeans. This, 
 perhaps, means that I lost my standards, and began to 
 view them too favourably. This experience occurs 
 easily to sympathetic students of life; they take things 
 as they find them, reflecting that evils abound every- 
 where, and, in a kind of acquiescence, they lose not only 
 the bias of prejudice but the impulse of divine discon- 
 tent. However, be this as it may, I lost my horror of 
 the negro. 
 
 I remember many a pleasant hour that I passed in his 
 company, among the Nandi Hills and the Kavirondo 
 Plains. Though not myself a coloured person, I like 
 the sun and prefer, as an ordinary temperature, eighty 
 to ninety degrees. That is not the temperature for a 
 strenuous life, but it is a good temperature, when you 
 are disposed to sit down, " apparently idle, but really 
 thinking of nothing at all," as one of my students once 
 put it. On such an occasion once I found myself under 
 the eaves of a blacksmith's hut in the Kavirondo 
 country, sitting on a stool, helping the blacksmith and 
 his " wives " to do nothing. He was a prosperous 
 blacksmith and had several " wives." They had each 
 a round hut to herself, the whole enclosed by a hedge; 
 the huts were clean and the compound was clean, and 
 th^ was nothing odious in sight. Things, in fact, 
 wore a comfortable, domestic air; the roof was hung 
 with bunches of herbs and seeds; fowl were sunning 
 themselves here and there in the dust. Everyone was 
 stark naked, but the tone of the company was polite 
 and human. 
 
 I think I may say that man, at any rate, shows to 
 advantage in this way. I do not see in him a " poor, 
 forked thing " of no account; on the contrary, a strong 
 
196 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 porter carrying a load seems to me one of the finest 
 specta,cles on earth. You spoil the effect if you add an 
 inch of clothing to him. Woman at all times is an 
 animal inferior in interest; she may for a moment have 
 some advantage in point of beauty. But you will more 
 easily find a Hottentot Hercules than a Hottentot Venus. 
 
 Moreover, what a wealth of reflections proceed from 
 this spectacle of man's mortal frame 1 Here, surely, is 
 the philosopher's true standpoint for the contemplation 
 of heaven and earth. We see before us the dualism of 
 mind and matter. Here is that alter ego which steps 
 beside us throughout life ; that flesh which has iso many 
 needs to satisfy; which seems, at one time, the fetter on 
 our aspirations, at another, the wings with which they 
 fly. Is it a friend or an enemy? Shall we renounce 
 it or embrace it? " What is man ? " cries the psalmist. 
 " Your bodies are the temples of the Spirit." 
 
 Now, are these people happy, you may say; is their 
 life worth living? It certainly has drawbacks. I 
 suppose work in general they dislike, and the work 
 they have to do they consider as an evil. They suffer 
 much from disease, from famine, and fronj war. The 
 great curse of Africa is the tyranny of the dominant 
 tribe. From time to time, everywhere, some tribe — 
 Zulu, Masai, or Baganda — learns the secret of organisa- 
 tion, and conceives the design of living on its neigh- 
 bours. Then arises a state of man in which nothing is, 
 safe and nothing is spared; the history of the whole 
 region is massacre, starvation, and slavery. The 
 dominant tribe eventually fails; there is an interval of 
 peace, after which history — if the tale deserves the name 
 — repeats itself. 
 
 Now I grant that war has its compensatiohs. Othello 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 197 
 
 found in war " content and a tranquil mind " (strange 
 discovery I) and peradventure, among the plumed troops 
 of the Kikuyu, other Ethiopians have found the same. 
 Even cattle-raiding has been glorified by valour, and 
 the defence of hearth and home has often taught men 
 what is best in themselves. Moreover, without war, 
 Europe would not have known chivalry; and our ideas 
 of virtue, like fogs above a marsh, might have floated 
 for ever on the plane of Mr Shaw's imagination. 'Tis 
 something that the winds have lifted them to the skies, 
 where they show with a splendour, false and fleeting, 
 but borrowed of the sun. 
 
 In Africa, however, making all allowances, war has 
 been a selfish and brutal affair. I suppose there has 
 been a glimpse of the Homeric in it now and then, and 
 a glimpse of the Teutonic. They say a Masai will not 
 tell you a lie if you al^^ure him as a fighting man to 
 tell you the truth; the Zulu warriors were certainly 
 loyal to death, and the Kavirondo spared the lives of 
 women. But this amounts to little; and in judging 
 whether life in these climes was worth living we must 
 make large deductons for the misery of war. 
 
 Some deductions must also be made for the self- 
 torturing customs. I really cannot think Kikuyu bOys 
 and girls anticipate, with even minds, the "age of 
 puberty," and the influence of supei-stitions must be 
 depressing. The uncertain terrors of dreams and 
 omens, of customs forgotten or broken, of magic 
 levelled at one by secret enemies, all this cannot fail to 
 prey on men's minds. There may be times when all 
 is going well, and the sense of these dangers does not 
 depress men, but one cannot doubt that it often over- 
 powers them. 
 
198 m FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 There is also a brighter side to things. The climate 
 in many parts is genial in Equatorial Africa, sometimes 
 even inspiring. Within his own circle, his social 
 system distributes the goods of life fairly; there are 
 neither the " submerged tenth " of England, nor the 
 " depressed classes " of India. Within that circle 
 mutual relations, -on the whole, are pleasant. Good 
 humour is the rule, and Providence has made the negro, 
 rV. on the whole, ai optimist. Interests are not wanting. 
 The intricate social customs must provide plenty of 
 things, and the niceties of conduct are discussed as 
 closely in kraals as in drawing-rooms. Lugard assures 
 us that " no one is more quick to recognise a real 
 gentleman than an African savage." 
 
 Popular sayings evince both humour and observation. 
 " I have a daughter," says a riddle, "who eats a 
 meal every morning, but goes to bed hungry at night." 
 Who can this be that follows a rule just the opposite of 
 negro practice? A broom. " Shame," says a saying, 
 " is not one-edged like a knife." It cuts in every 
 direction .and paralyses a man. Proverbial wisdom 
 has not attained a higher flight anywhere. 
 
 There is no literature among the negroes, though 
 their languages are complex and efficient instruments 
 of thought. They have good decorative ideas, but 
 never draw.* Their weapons of war are vigorous and 
 well finished, but little ingenious. The knob-kerry is 
 the most notable of their inventions. It consists of a 
 small shoot from a tree, with the knot attached, the stem 
 being about a foot long, and. the knot a round ball of 
 two or three inches in diameter. To cut it out and 
 
 * In this respect the Bushmen of South Africa, a lower race, 
 far surpass them. 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 199 
 
 finish it needs much patience ; the weapon is strong and 
 durable. Stools and wooden vessels are made in the 
 same way, by fashioning blocks of wood. There is no 
 art of carpentry known. A few tribes tan leather, but 
 this has not spread. Neither has weaving, which is 
 known in Abyssinia. The Masai understand tending 
 cattle, and, everywhere, there is a knowledge of herbs 
 which Europeans have not explored. But how little 
 the negro races have achieved! It has never occured 
 to them to make bridges over the smallest streams, 
 or to control nature in any way. An unseen hand 
 has arrested progress everywhere. 
 
 Be it remembered, however, that various tribes and 
 races differ no less on their plane, than the nations of 
 Europe. I have, perhaps, already written too much of 
 them en masse ; it may not weary the reader if I pause 
 here to draw some distinctions. 
 
 The negroes of East Africa are found, on first acquain- 
 tance, to be divided into various tribes and peoples, 
 with names and characters of their own. Whether these 
 tribes can be classified into races is uncertain, as the 
 same problem is uncertain everywhere. Probably, if 
 we could ascend the course of time a few centuries, we 
 should find other tribes before us, each apparently mixed 
 in origin, and suggesting the same hypothesis of earlier 
 races from which they sprang. The mirage of homo- 
 genous races recedes as we approach it; if ever there 
 were such bodies they must have vanished before the pre- 
 historic times began. 
 
 In East Africa, applying the test of language, we find 
 we have two main groups, the Nilotic and. the Bantu, 
 which are wholly distinct from each other. We cannot 
 say, of course, that all who speak either language are 
 
200 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 connected by blood; there is no evidence on this point. 
 Roughly speaking, there are certain points of custom 
 and belief on which divisions follow the linguistic line. 
 The Nilotic tribes worship the sun, the Bantu tribes the 
 spirits of the dead; but the frontier lines o^ the two 
 systems are not strictly drawn. The Nilotic tribes go 
 naked — men and women ; the Bantu-speaking Kavirondo 
 do the same. The Nilotic tribes are rather pastoral 
 than agricultural, the Nilotic Kavirondo are agricultural. 
 So our classifications break down ; and, in the long run, 
 there is not much to do but examine the tribes as they 
 are, and note their usages. 
 
 The Kikuyu are the first Whom the tourist is likely 
 to meet, for they inhabit the highlands, and are the 
 commonest people in the streets of Nairobi. They are 
 poor in physique, especially the women ; they wear 
 skins, and rub themselves with fat to keep off the rain. 
 The dress of the women is cumbrous and elaborate; 
 the men are half naked, but do not like to be seen 
 wholly naked, except at dances. Both sexes are cir- 
 cumcised. They live in round huts, each family group 
 being separate in the fields. Their surroundings are 
 dirty and comfortless. They keep small herds of sheep 
 and cattle, but live chiefly on maize and kafiir corn 
 (jowari), which they pound and knead inito cakes. 
 
 They are by no means a peaceful people, though 
 they have never had a military epoch as some African 
 tribes have had. The young men are the military class; 
 they still carry spears and swords, and imitate the martial 
 demeanour of the Masai. But a few years ago the 
 Kikuyu hajl enough to do in fighting these aggressive 
 neighbours. 
 
 In point of intelligence they are the lowest savages 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 201 
 
 in the country. They are also the most sordid in their 
 ideas. Woman are bought and sold with as little com- 
 pynction as cattle, and, though not ill treated, they do 
 almost all the hard work of life. As they carry burdens 
 on their backs, they fall into a stooping carriage, which 
 is unattractive, and the loss of their eyebrows and eye- 
 lashes, which they pull out, makes them hideous in our 
 eyes. The babies are dirty and repulsive; and it is 
 rarely one sees a pleasant, smiling face among the 
 young women. They show, hbwever, some skill in 
 making ornaments of beads. 
 
 Next door to the Kikuyu are the celebrated Masai, a 
 people full of charms for the anthropologist. They 
 speak a Nilotic language, and may be supposed, if the 
 reader choses, to have invaded southern Africa from 
 the Nile. In historic times their range has been wide, 
 though their numbers have never been large. They 
 are fine, well-built men; the women are heavily clothed 
 in skins, the men more or less naked. They live in 
 village kraals ; the huts are oblong in shape, and adjoin 
 each other so as to form a large circle or " boma " (a 
 fortification). In the centre is a fenced enclosure, where 
 the cattle are kept, for they do not share the dwellings 
 of the human kind, as they do among most African 
 tribes. 
 
 The Masai disdain agriculture, and live exclusively 
 on their cattle. Women buy and eat grain; the men's 
 diet is blood and milk. The blood is drawn — like the 
 milk — from the living animal ; neither the one nor the 
 other is cooked. ' ^ 
 
 The Masai never hunt, unless it be to kill a trouble- 
 some lion. Their chief interest (apart from cattle- 
 breeding) is raiding and fighting; less glorious in their 
 
202 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 exploits than the Zulus, they have nevertheless been a 
 curse to their neighbours throughout East Africa. Not 
 every critic, however, thinks alike of their prowess, and 
 I suspect it has been overrated. 
 
 They trouble their heads little about religion, and 
 less about witchcraft, though they have diviners and 
 medicine men. A persistent legend relates that one of 
 this fraternity, a great chief to boot, predicted the arrival 
 of the white man, the construction of the Uganda Rail- 
 way — and its eventual disappearance. 
 
 In sexual relations they are more shameless than all 
 other negroes, which is much to say. Custom permits 
 the warriors to enjoy the immature girls. Chastity 
 in woman is barely recognised anywhere in Africa — 
 though usages differ; among the Masai it is a thing 
 undreamed of. Circumcision is practised ; the ceremony 
 is carried out with elaborate care. 
 
 I did but once visit a Masai kraal, and was pompously 
 conducted round the same by the proprietors. They 
 were mighty proud of it — " Where wi,ll you find a 
 settler who could build a boma like this? " Knowing 
 they do not venerate the cow (which no African does), 
 I inquired if they considered her urine in the light of 
 a medicine; but they repulsed the idea. Nevertheless, 
 they use this fluid to scour their milk vessels, a practice 
 which Europeans deprecate. They made fire for me 
 with fire-sticks, a proceeding which took about a minute. 
 The young warriors were curling their hair and paint- 
 ing themselves, an occupation which, under the Pax 
 Britannica, has to be spun out the whole day long, but 
 does not seem to weary theni. Moreover, they showed 
 me how they scrape the hair off their children's heads; 
 and they held a dance for me. Some little girls (heavily 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 203 
 
 clothed) were ranged in a row, and some young men 
 (stark naked) advanced towards them, as the devil 
 went through Athlone, by standing leaps. The men 
 enjoyed it; the little girls seemed much bored. On 
 the whole, I should think life is a sad affair for the 
 Masai girl. 
 
 In demeanour the Masai rs dignified and deferential; 
 no savage poses better before the camera. Nevertheless, 
 he is a hopeless and useless animal. He has created 
 nothing; the Muses have disdained to visit him. His 
 cattle are hardy but inf ructuous animals ; his sheep yield 
 no wool and his cows little milk. The proudest aris- 
 tocrat in Europe is not more contemptuous of work. 
 Nevertheless, he has friends amongst the Europeans, 
 / especially the sportsmen. His good manners, his — 
 comparative — cleanliness, and his loyalty to engage- 
 ments, when he does accept them, cover his pride, his 
 cruelty, and his inflexible preference for the savage life. 
 Alone among the negroes,- he has never fought the 
 European. Adroit beyond all our expectations, he has 
 recognised that submission is his only chance; he has 
 never given us an excuse for war. We told him to leave 
 the Rift Valley, and he went; we felt obliged to provide 
 for him elsewhere. He believes in his heart that our 
 schemes will fail, and we shall go. Possibly; but in 
 the meanwhile he is dying out himself. I think his 
 course was run before we entered the country. 
 
 It appears that some Masai have actually been clothed 
 in fitting raiment and transported to London. What 
 was it that struck them much ? They had milk every day 
 and saw no cow anywhere. What were the London 
 houses like ? Not houses at all, they said, but mountains 
 with caves in them. These observations, surely, are 
 
204 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 creditable, and such as Caractacus may have made in the 
 streets of Rome. 
 
 Cousins of the Masai are the Nandi, who live on the 
 heights near Lake Victoria. They dwell in round huts, 
 with. little doOrs on the level of the ground. You have 
 to crawl through them on all fours, like a cat raiding 
 a pantry through the window. Inside, you find your- 
 self under a low roof, about three feet high, for the 
 ' upper part of a Nandi hut is a store-house, where grain 
 is kept. There is a hole in the^'ceiling, through which 
 you can put your head and look round you ; other- 
 wise, there is not much freedom of movement in a 
 Nandi house. 
 
 The people themselves are manly and pleasant. Their 
 relations with the white man have not always been 
 friendly, though that has been a good deal their own 
 fault.' They could not leave the railway alone. The 
 telegraph wires made such lovely bracelets, and the 
 bolts from the sleepers such excellent spear heads. 
 Like the cat who saw the sausages doing nothing on a 
 shelf, they felt obliged to use their opportunities, and 
 the result was, after many warnings, the Nandi War. 
 The Nandi lost, besides warriors killed and wounded, a 
 vast number of sheep and cattle; and they learned the 
 lessons needed- But they seem to have borne no malice, 
 and there istfriction between them and their masters at 
 present. They have been settled in a reserve, which lies 
 in one of the richest and fairest parts, of the country. 
 There are no white settlers near them, and no labour pro- 
 blern troubles the general peace. The tribe is taking 
 more and more to farming, and various new crops are re- 
 ceiving their attention. On the whole, I should point to 
 the case, of the Nandi as one where the new age has 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 205 
 
 brought the negro more good than evil — though there are 
 no missions working away there. The chief evil it has' 
 brought is syphilis, wl;ich was spread by the coolies 
 who made the railway. 
 
 The customs and beliefs of the Nandi are recorded in 
 Mr Hollis' book. I have not much to say about them. 
 One may note however their practice of symbolical 
 spitting. To spit on a friend is not only auspicious but 
 a mark of favour, gopdwill, and gratitude. They have' 
 found out by now that white men do not appreciate the 
 action, but you see them liberally spitting on each 
 other. Moreover, the practice of shaking hands is in- 
 digenous, and it is proper to spit in your hand before 
 offering it to a friend. I remember no such custom 
 in India, but a London cabby, if you give him sixpence 
 extra, will sometimes spit on it " for luck."" 
 
 The Nandi Hills are five thousand feet high ; they 
 fall down abruptly to the Kavirondo Plain. This plain 
 encirclies the lake and it is occupied by two different sets 
 of black men, to both of which we give the name of 
 Kavirondo. They speak wholly distinct languages, one 
 Bantu and the other Nilotic, but their usages are similar, 
 especially the practice among both sexes of going naked. 
 I saw most myself of the Nilotic Kavirondo. They are 
 a peaceful people and suffered much before our rule 
 from the raids of the Nandi. They are tillers of the 
 soil and have few cattle ; their country is hot and flat and 
 treeless. Their huts are the best in the country, spacious 
 if dark inside, with a comfortable lounge beneath the 
 eaves where the family sit and chat and while away the 
 time. Not that they are idle, they are indeed indus- 
 trious people ; cotton and other seed crops are spread- 
 ing amongst them, and they are showing some aptitude 
 
206 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 for " civilisation." The C.M.S. has a boy's school at 
 Maseno, which struck me as the sanest and brightest 
 institution in the country. The boys are largely the 
 sons of petty chiefs : they get little schooling beyond the 
 three R's, but are taught to build houses, make clothes, 
 and cultivate the soil, to sing hymns, play football, and 
 resist the devil. By the devil I mean the devil of sexual 
 indulgence, a freedom which the Kavirondo system per- 
 mits the children. Common rumour exaggerates the 
 virtue of the Kavirondo just because they are naked, 
 and it is true they do not sell their women to foreigners 
 as freely as some tribes do, but chastity they know not 
 and esteem not. Neither sex is circumcised. 
 
 Of all quaint sights in the world I think none more 
 entertaining than the Mumias Road ; from Lake Victoria 
 through the Kavirondo country. It is full from morn- 
 ing to night of strings of Kavirondo, men, women, 
 and children, carrying baskets of grain into Kisumu. 
 Sometimes a party of dancers varies the scene, travel- 
 ling to a feast somewhere. They are painted full gaily 
 with' red and yellow pigments, they wear crowns and 
 bracelets of beads, and horse-hair tails are slung be- 
 hind them. They trip it featly along the road, and 
 every face is an image of mirth and happiness. 
 
 The Kavirondo are a neurotic people, much given to 
 suicide. Children when harshly addressed will go and 
 lie down in the jungle and let the hyaenas eat them. 
 
 The Bantu Kavirondo are less industrious and less 
 interesting than the Nilotics; I saw less of them and 
 shall say nothing. And every other tribe I shall pass 
 over save the Wanderobo. These are the only hunt- 
 ing tribe of East Africa, and they are the lowest of all 
 the savages. They have no houses but live in tree- 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 207 
 
 trunks and caves, and they do not till the soil. They 
 kill such animals as they can and eat them mostly 
 raw. It is a gory- sight to watch them revelling in the 
 carcass of an elephant. I did not witness it, but occa- 
 sionally met the Wanderobo on the frosty plains of the 
 Uas N'gishu. They were lean, shrivelled little people, 
 with tattered skins cast around them. They will die out 
 soon, and I cannot think humanity will be much the 
 poorer. They have not the remarkable powers of the 
 Australian blacks or the South- African bushmen, and 
 they have invented nothing like the boomerang or 
 bushmen 's drawings. 
 
 These bushmen are not part of my subject, yet I 
 cannot forbear a paragraph concerning them. They are 
 one of the old dwarf races of Africa. They will come to 
 no terms with any other race, and since they are mis- 
 chievous to settlers' crops, like monkeys, they are treated 
 as vermin and shot on sight. Thus they have been 
 killed off in Cape Colony, but still survive in Rhodesia. 
 The Matabele Chief Lobengula once captured a few score 
 of their children and took them away over two hundred 
 miles to his own kraal. He meant to " civilise " them 
 after his own fashion, but they would not consent to 
 it. One night they all escaped and not one was ever 
 found again. They travelled through sixty miles of 
 Matabele country, lurking in thickets by day and pushing 
 on by night. They lived as bushmen live, on lizards 
 and ants, and they all returned safe to their own people. 
 How they found their way no white man can imagine, 
 nor could Lobengula. " They are just like animals," 
 said he. 
 
 The various tribes of negroes, all according to their 
 grades of life, despise each other. The tiller of the 
 
208 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 soil despises the Wanderobo; the herdsman, him; the 
 cotton-clad Swaheli, all skin-clad savages. When 
 abusing a friend in a lighter vein a Swaheli will say, 
 " Your mother wore a skin." 
 
 After this general view of the negro, as he has been, 
 we may ask how other races have dealt with' him, what ,. 
 they have done for him, and what is likely to become 
 of him in the future.* 
 
 In the dawn of history the negroes knew and met the 
 Egyptians, but they seem to have learned nothing from 
 them. Traces of Egypt meet us even in Uganda, but 
 they amount to little and prove little. During all the 
 centuries of Rome, tribp^ rose and fell — we may suppose 
 — in Equatorial Africa, but neither Rome nor Greece 
 sent any impulse there. Islam has been / and is more 
 successful. From Somaliland through Nubia and the 
 Senussi to Nigeria the creed of Mohammed has con- 
 quered a,nd transformed the negro. But in Equatorial 
 East and Southern Africa it has not changed things. The 
 Arabs settled on the coast from Lamu to Zanzibar, they 
 ruled and established their faith, but in the interior they 
 appeared only as traders in slaves and ivory. They 
 were bold and enterprising men , and credit is due to them 
 in full measure for these qualities, which carried them 
 
 *To the strong-minded reader, who desires positive conclu- 
 sions, I present these of the railway guide. " The opening up of 
 British East Africa is one of the greatest philanthropic enterprise! 
 of modern times. An inestimable boon it has certainly been to 
 the native. He is in no way spoiled. He is to-day what he has 
 been .for untold generations, except that his savage instincts have 
 been softened, and he has been taught that where the white man 
 takes up his burden, rapine and bloodshed are impossible. Primi- 
 tive savagery wallcs hand in hand with modern civilisation, 
 retaining all its picturesqueness, but divorced from its lust and 
 cruelty." 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 209 
 
 through vast difficulties to the snores of the lakes, and 
 even across the Continent. But they brought unmixed 
 and untold evil into Africa. They promoted war to 
 bring in slaves; and the horrors of their wars, and their 
 raids, and their slave traffic form a dark chapter in the 
 history of man. A chapter no less dark is that of the 
 slave-trade on the western coast, in which Liverpool and 
 Bristol and the Southern States of America are con 
 cerned. Nothing worse has ever been done by man 
 to man than occurred in the slave-trade of Western 
 Africa. If sometimes to-day we are vexed by the cant of 
 the Humanitarians, by their malice and mendacity, let 
 us remember there was an age when their harsh judg- 
 ments were called for. 
 
 In East Africa the age of slavery was closed by the 
 Protectorates of England and Germany and the construc- 
 tion of the Uganda Railway. The country then passed 
 under European rule. The motives of those who pro- 
 moted this change were largely philanthropic; it was 
 hoped that the new territories would some day pay, but 
 it was recognised that for the time being they would not. 
 In the meanwhile under a settled Government the negro 
 races would be steadily encouraged to rise. 
 
 In Uganda, as we shall presently see, this programme 
 has been carried out; in British East Africa the un- 
 foreseen has occurred, and a new situation has arisen. 
 When the first Europeans penetrated the country, they 
 were amazed to find that the interior of Africa was not 
 a desert, but a green, delightful land, whose high ele- 
 vation conferred upon it a temperate climate, and made 
 it a white man's home. The population was certainly 
 sparse, and there seemed to be room along with the 
 blacks for any amount of whites. The news of the 
 
 o 
 
210 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 discovery spread and the whites began to arrive. With 
 them came a new aspect of the racial problem and the 
 racial war. j 
 
 The problem and the state of war are not new in the 
 history of man, for strife is the rule of life, and most 
 wars are racial warsi. We have to see at present how 
 the situation affects the negro. It is brought under 
 many influences which we must specify and classify. 
 
 Let us take first the direct influence of our system of 
 Government. What our Government has aimed at is 
 to preserve peace and to leave the negro scope for de- 
 velopment. It has not of course b^en wholly disin- 
 terested. The British tax-payer has not paid without 
 a grumble ;^6,ooo,ooo for the railway, and ;;^ 150,000 a 
 year in subsidy to the country. He would have liked to 
 see this sum extracted from the blacks. But England 
 has not pressed the blacks, nor have her officials. The 
 Government has considered itself as a Protectorate; it 
 has acted on the principles implied in the name. 
 
 Its action has brought some problems into negro 
 society. Peace has deprived the warriors of their occu- 
 pation, and they have nOt yet turned to the unattractive 
 life of the labourer. The young bloods of the Kikuyu 
 still prance about in their feathers and paint ; you may 
 see them often in the streets of Nairobi, looking with 
 disdain on the coolies and rickshaw boys. They are, 
 like Squireens of Ireland and the idle noblesse of other 
 countries, a bad example, a nuisance, and a danger. 
 Meanwhile the seat of authority among them has shifted. 
 The negro chief and the negro council, whatever 
 once they were, are nothing in a country where white 
 officials rule. Yet the white official cannot be every- 
 where, and who is to second him? Strengthen the 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 211 
 
 chiefs, you may say, and many people recommend this, 
 but it is not so easily done. These very chiefs do not 
 understand the new laws, and they cannot administer 
 them. Supplement them by a system of appeals, and 
 what becomes of their authority? And how can you 
 reconcile this authority with the principles of a High 
 Court? 
 
 These problems inhere in the case, but were they all 
 they might be tackled. They are, however, but the be- 
 ginning of our difRculties. Let us pause by the way 
 to observe a few incidental troubles. 
 
 Drink is luckily not one of them. The conscience of 
 Europe — even her self-interest to some extent — has re- 
 volted against trade gin. It is not imported into East 
 Africa, and you may not sell strong drink to the natives 
 there. But you may sell them anything else, and it 
 matters nothing to the trader what rubbish they buy. 
 One of the queerest sights I saw in Africa was a trader 
 whom I met in the heart of the jungle, many miles from 
 the i^ilway, trying to buy beeswax and india-rubber, 
 and sell shirts and hatpins to the natives. Now, as to 
 himself, he was a man of birth and breeding, and even 
 character, and as to his shirts, they were flannelette, 
 of the vilest quality, and priced at one shilling and 
 sixpence each. It was queer enough to see him politely 
 recommending them to the niggers (for a trader must 
 be polite), and I felt reminded of those pictures where 
 you see a trout dressed up as a fisherman on the bank 
 angling for an angler in the stream ; but sadder thoughts 
 followed this reflection. I was moved to speak to him 
 and I said, " Well, I am glad to see, once in a way, the 
 seamy side of commerce. I often have my attention 
 called to the seamy side of education, and I admit it 
 
212 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 exists — but consider what you're doing. This shirt, 
 I suppose, has travelled about ten thousand miles. 
 Of all who have helped to make it, and transport it, to 
 grow and gather the cotton, and pack it,, and handle 
 it, and spin and weave it, and make it up into shirts, 
 there is not one pair of hands that did not belong to a 
 sweated labourer, mostly a white man ; and the last stage 
 in its history is, that being the best suitable garment on 
 earth for these foolish niggers, they are being inveigled 
 into buying it." He allowed that such was the case, 
 and pleaded necessity, and deplored the perversity of his 
 customers, who would not buy the hatpins in spite of 
 the artificial plums on them — price one penny each. But I 
 have no doubt that with a little perseverance he might 
 have sold the hatpins too, for the negro easily deserts 
 his own superior ornaments for European gewgaws. 
 He sells them to officials, and tourists, and goes- about 
 with an old jam-pot stuck in his ear. Some day per- 
 haps he may grow wiser, but here as elsewhere the first 
 thing to happen is that civilisation takes away from 
 him the little he has. 
 
 In return, one of the things it bestows on him is — 
 clothes. The example of the European sets the savage 
 on clothing himself. Not that the official particularly 
 desires this; he would rather not move in the matter, 
 but the trader promotes it, the settler, where there are 
 settlers, prefers it, and the missionary insists on it. 
 What does the savage gain by the change ? 
 
 Decency. I will not say this is a bad thing, yet it 
 has little to do with morals. On all planes of civilisa- 
 tion, decency and morals are very loosely united. The 
 clothed Baganda is no whit better than the naked Kavi- 
 rondo ; veiled beauties all the world over have tfie worst 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 213 
 
 name. Moreover, no customs vary more than customs 
 of decency, and it is perilous to infer from any custom 
 the presence or absence of the idea. Still, it may be 
 granted that decency in the narrow sense is at least 
 inevitable. As a philosopher, I should like to see 
 things otherwise. History has, known one race — the 
 Greek — who went naked, and the Kavirondo, had they 
 ascended to the level of the Athenians, might perhaps 
 have reached it without the aid of clothes. But the 
 argument may be inverted, and it may be suggested that 
 clothes would have saved the Greeks from some vices 
 that soil their record. One cannot say, but clothes for 
 decency's sake are inevitable. Let so much be granted. 
 Moreover, clothes, in moderation, are healthy. It is 
 true red ochre and castor oil defy the rain, and even with- 
 out them the negroes seem, like the Scythians, to be 
 " all face." But good clothing would be better — if only 
 we taught the negro to clothe himself well. Unfortun- 
 ately, we do not achieve this. The clothes he picks up 
 are not only bad of their kind, but the worst kinds for 
 him. Indeed, no one can say what exactly would suit 
 him. Something loose is wanted; something that ad- 
 mits the air, and can easily be cast off in working hours. 
 The blanket is a good idea. Men wear it like a toga, 
 fastened over the shoulder, and if we added to it a pair 
 of drawers I think we should have a good working-dress 
 for the Shenzi. Unluckily he tends towards cast-off 
 jerseys, coats, and trousers. He knows not how or when 
 to wash them, and they become to him a source of dirt 
 and disease. Moreover, they expose him to the derision 
 of Europeans, and even more does European dress lower 
 the dignity of his women. For these indeed I cannot 
 even pretend to legislate. Lady missionaries, uninven- 
 
214 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 tive as women are, have found out nothing for them, 
 and they go about either in their own nakedness or in 
 blouses and pinafores. 
 
 Dress, I have said, is one of the incidental blessings 
 that civilisation brings the savage; its concomitant is 
 disease, and by disease above all the savage finds out 
 that men of a higher order have approached him. 
 Measles in the South Sea, small-pox in America, have 
 done much to solve the problem of the savage; they 
 have at least killed him off^ — so much cannot be said for 
 syphilis. This friend and companion of man may or 
 may not have preceded the European into Africa — the 
 learned are not agreed on the point ; it has been vastly 
 spj^ead by his assistance. Espefcially in East Africa, by 
 the Asiatics who followed the Europeans, and built the 
 railway for thern. When the railway was under con- 
 struction a great famine occurred in the country, and the 
 savage, who refused to earn wages by honest labour on 
 the railway, found out a simpler way of living by it. He 
 sold his women to the coolieS. The spread of syphilis 
 was enormous; it has raged in the country ever since. 
 Unluckily, it is not a disease that kills, but beyond all 
 others it pollutes and torments mankind. 
 
 It is a trivial point that I take up next, but we should 
 not forget that the native of East Africa is thrown into 
 contact with tourists. Now hardly any race can resist 
 the temptations which ensue frorti this, and most races 
 in the face of them abandon certain moral principles 
 altogether. They accept at once, as money-making 
 characteristics, greed mendacity, and insolence. I have 
 seen the German Swiss escape from these evils; I do 
 not expect to see the African do so. In his native wilds, 
 unless he be of the truculent kind — he is in a measure 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 215 
 
 hospitable and honest; he has not learned to lie and 
 cheat and set an immediate money value on everything. 
 These lessons the tourist soon teaches him. 
 
 Let us see now what he gains or loses from the settler. 
 
 One thing .evidently he loses — the expanse of land 
 that once he possessed. I will not make too much of 
 this, for East Africa is sparsely peopled ; native reserves 
 have been created, where the present generation have 
 ample room to live and expand. Some things he gains. 
 He has a chance to make money, by labour too which 
 as a rule is not ihapprociate or uncongenial. He sees 
 many improvements in cultivation ; he has a chance to 
 learn, and all settlers willingly teach a man who is at 
 all teachable. He suffers violence sometimes, but he is 
 used to this among his own people; if it does not ele 
 vate him it cannot be said it degrades him. 
 
 On the other hand, his system of ideas suffers many 
 shocks. Settlers know nothing and care nothing about 
 negro life ; whether consciously or not, they upset with- 
 out remorse the negro's ideas. They come across some 
 medicine man, perhaps, and scatter him and his medi- 
 cines to the winds, laughing at the horror which their 
 Safari show. This is well enough in the destructive side, 
 but what takes the place of the veneration they dispel ? 
 
 They interfere with the status of women. The first 
 proceeding of nearly every settler is to furnish himself 
 with a concubine. This is easily done in a country 
 where women are sold with as little scruple as cows, 
 and nobody's feelings are hurt. Least of all the 
 women's; they think it a fine thing to be taken up by 
 a white man. The white man soon learns that. I re- 
 member a young Scotchman telling me how once, soon 
 after his arrival, surveying a Kikuyu woman who was 
 
216 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 working for him, much plastered over with red ochre 
 and oil, he said to her, " Why don't you keep yourself 
 clean ? " She went away and pondered over his words, 
 and a few days afterwards his ioto* brought him word 
 that if that was the objection, she was willing to buy 
 soap and make herself acceptable. 
 
 Now if he had accepted the offer there would not 
 have been, so far, much harm done. The harm would 
 have followed later on, when he grew tired of her, and 
 cast her off. She would then have become a common 
 whore, such as one may see in the streets of Nairobi. 
 Savage society does not bring thi^ class into existence. 
 It follows at once on the heels of civilisation. 
 
 Moreover, there is a danger that the settler may im- 
 pair the savage's morals in another way. He may teach 
 him the slavish temper. This is not found in the 
 original savage, who is fearless' in mien and thought, 
 and approaches the white man without affection. If how- 
 ever he is ill-used and cowed he learns the cunning of the 
 slave, and all the tricks of servility., 
 
 The last agency brought to bear pn the negro is that 
 of the missionary. I shall proceed to consider it, not 
 without a groan over the magnitude of the task. 
 
 East Africa is well supplied with missions; there is 
 no type of institution which is not represented. Let us 
 begin with the Church, most venerable by reason of its 
 antiquity, the Church of Rome. She has both solitary 
 pioneering missionaries and settlements. I consider the 
 last the most characteristic scenes of her activity. They 
 reproduce the conditions of early Europe when the 
 monasteries were , being founded. The little band of 
 Fathers— generally French or Italian — ^will be found 
 * Toto means a little boy. 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AmiCA 217 
 
 remote from the railway, maintaining themselves on the 
 Jand. In East Africa they have generally the advantage 
 of a pleasant site, and they always improve on it. 
 Amongst their number are trained artisans : carpen- 
 ters, masons, smiths, and gardeners, and though they 
 live simply and work hard, mere asceticism is not their 
 practice. They grow fruit and vegetables, as well as 
 corn ; they plant shady trees and rows of flowers. By 
 the aid of coffee or other high-class produce they im- 
 prove their funds, purchase clothes and building ma- 
 terials, and such ammunition as they need for their 
 spiritual wars. Though devoted missionaries they are 
 not merely missionaries ; the life they lead is one chosen 
 for its own sake, and it has all that recommends such a 
 life to religious minds. From all that I have ever seen 
 it is a life virtuous, useful, and happy, free beyond all 
 others from earthly cares, and full of heavenly hopes. 
 
 Its influence on the native African in such centres 
 is undoubtedly good. The Fathers are generally wise 
 and humane in their treatment of natives, they insist 
 on work and discipline, and their system supplies a 
 centre of authority. What then are its defects? 
 
 I shall mention two, one of which would be admitted 
 by its followers, while one would not. It is, in the first 
 place, a system difficult to extend. The difficulty is the 
 celibacy of the priesthood. The African cannot under- 
 stand this. He is not likely, within any visible future, 
 to accept it. This means that the Roman Church must 
 depend on European priests, and they will not be forth- 
 coming in numbers sufficient to occupy the ground. 
 Even if they were, one may doubt whether the negroes 
 would long accept a system which excluded them from 
 all direction and responsibility. 
 
218 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 Moreover, in view of savage conditions, I think the 
 Church of Rome accepts members too easily. Her 
 theory, no doubt, makes the Church a wide fold, and I 
 do not here combat her views ; but they have this result 
 in a savage country, that many are baptised who have 
 not the slightest knowledge what baptism means. The 
 Protestant bodies have often admitted converts too 
 easily, and have found themselves discredited and 
 weakened by the error, but on the whole they have 
 learned wisdom. The Church of Rome cannot, on its 
 own principles be so cautious, and must always be in 
 danger from heathenism within its pale. 
 
 Among the Protestant bodies in East Africa there 
 are represented the Church* of England, the Church of 
 Scotland, the Methodists, the Society of Friends, and 
 various errant forms like the Seventh Day Adventists. 
 There is one large American mission which contains 
 representatives from many churches. 
 
 In contemplating the work of these bodies we observe 
 that a change has passed over Protestant missions during 
 the hundred years of their history. The early concep- 
 tion of the missionary was that of the evangelist, the 
 preacher whose work was finished when he delivered 
 his message. It was this conception that inspired the 
 best known of missionary hymns : 
 
 " Shall we, whose souls eire lighted 
 With wisdom from on high, 
 Shall we, to men benighted. 
 The lamp of life deny? " 
 
 There are such missionaries seen in Africa to-day ; one 
 Swedish mission, I believe, never settles its members 
 in one spot, but keeps them always itinerating, preach- 
 ing where they are heard, and moving on, according 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 219 
 
 to the injunction, where people are hostile.' But the 
 practical spirit of English missionaries soon found 
 out the defects in their programme. It was found 
 necessary to organise, as well as to preach, to build 
 churches, frame councils, and draw up moral codes. 
 With this, however, missions remained content for two 
 generations, when they found they must move further 
 still. The expectations of early day^ proved deceitful; 
 the message of religion did not show the power that once 
 has hoped to change the daily lives of men. The bad 
 customs of heathenism disappeared and some genuine 
 devotion was aroused, but with it went a great deal of 
 laziness, some self-conceit, and little growth in civil- 
 isation. The remedy that suggested itself was more 
 deliberate training in work, not only for the sake of its 
 moral effect on character, but to interest the negro in a 
 higher standard of life. 
 
 This redirection of men's thoughts was partly due to 
 observation of the negro's character, partly to that move- 
 ment of this age in Europe which has brought to the 
 front manual, industrial, and technical training. It 
 has brought us to the point where we stand at present, 
 and the traveller in Africa will observe its effects in 
 many directions. 
 
 He will see them least of all in the stations of the 
 C.M.S., which is now the most old-fashioned of all 
 missionary bodies. It supports no industrial work 
 whatever, though a little is sometimes carried on by 
 its agents, with private help from friends. The chief 
 station of this mission is Freretown, near Mombasa, 
 now forty years old, which was established for the re- 
 clamation of rescued slaves. I have thought many a 
 time how sad the history of this station has been. It 
 
220 IN FOREiaN LANDS 
 
 stands on a most pleasant site, not free from all the 
 plagues of Africa,, yet cheerful and inviting. It has 
 never been short of funds or men. The work proposed 
 for it was noble and promising : to take rescued slaves, 
 and train them to honest work* as free men, while 
 imparting to them the mild and gracious truths of 
 Christianity. No little toil and thought have been 
 devoted to this task. With what results? The rescued 
 slaves were not sorry to find themselves ashore again, 
 for truly a slave dhow was a place to escape from, but 
 the programme placed before them they refused to 
 accept ; work and religion alike ;they abhorred. The 
 mission had to be strictly policed, and most of its 
 prot6g6s at last ran away to lead dissolute lives else- 
 where. The girls succumbed to the brothels of 
 Mombasa; and dissolute Europeans delight to tell you 
 of the mission girls they have corrupted. I do not say 
 all have perished; some have been faithful, and the 
 beautiful church at Freretown is not without a con- 
 gregation ; but the sum of forty years is disappointing. 
 The industrial mission proper may be seen at 
 Kikuyu, among the Wa>-Kikuyu. Here the Church 
 of Scotland Js established. It possesses a fine estate, 
 well-wooded and watered, with plenty of arable land. 
 On the staff are two doctors, a schoolmaster, a skilled 
 mechanic, and a farmer, with lady missionaries sup- 
 porting them. jWe have here not only a centre of 
 religious enlightenment but of civilisation. Crops and 
 methods of agriculture are being improved ; carpentry is 
 taught, and schooling goes forward in its due place. 
 The church is a beautiful building of cedar wood. 
 
 * Industrially, the Freretown mission was an exception to the 
 general rule of the C.M.S. 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 221 
 
 I was present at the opening service of this church, 
 when a strange congregation was gathered together. 
 There were some European sympathisers, a few con- 
 verts, and a horde of wild Kikuyu, naked or half- 
 wrapped in dirty skins; reeking with their own natural 
 odour and that of mutton fat — a raw, jjard-featured, 
 sorry tribe they were. Much I marvelled at their un- 
 couth air, and strove to conjecture their future. Much, 
 too, I pondered over the white man's ways towards 
 them, and thought, if humanity be anything more than 
 a name, at least it is something gained that this church 
 has been built among them and for them. It has been 
 raised out of their own woods, by the hands of men 
 resembling themselves, in the hope that some idea of 
 use and beauty may take form in their own minds, and 
 they may not always be content to be the things they 
 are. 
 
 Something of the same kind may' be seen at the 
 missions in the country, but the Scotch mission at 
 Kikuyu is by common consent the most advanced and 
 the most complete. In its general spirit it is, like its 
 nation, cautious and sober, and lays its foundations 
 carefully. Elsewhere in the country are some smaller 
 bodies, like the Seventh Day Adventists, whose views 
 are stricter and more exalted. Among them not only 
 is strong drink eschewed — a principle common to all 
 missions — but the fumes of the Indian weed, and some 
 ceremonies like that of feetwashing, assume an im- 
 portance unknown to orthodox Christianity. 
 
 "It is even possible that in the future Kikuyu may 
 be found suitable for European colonisation " ; so wrote 
 Sir Henry Johnstone in 1893. Ten years later European 
 colonists began to arrive, and to-day there ^re two 
 
222 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 thousand in the country. Who are they? How 
 are they thriving, and what is likely to be their 
 future ? 
 
 The question who they are is hard to answer. Not 
 farm labourers, such as go to Canada, and, in general, 
 not people who in England held or cultivated land.* 
 The only real farmers in the country are colonials from 
 South Africa, and they are not numerous. The bulk 
 of the settlers are gentlemen's sons with a little capital, 
 who have not found a vocation elsewhere and have 
 drifted to East Africa. In many cases they first came 
 out to shoot there, liked the country, and took up land. 
 Some few are townspeople from England, who felt 
 weary of town life, and hearing of East Africa as a 
 Happy Land, sold off their goods and proceeded there. 
 Others ai-e men who conform to no type. There is an 
 English peer — Lord Delamere — who owns a vast estate, 
 and has thrown in his lot with the country ; an American 
 millionaire, who has sunk a fortune there; and more 
 than one gilded youth, whose relatives have condemned 
 him to a term of penitence in the wilderness. 
 
 The part of the country which these people occupy is 
 the land above five thousand feet high, from Nairobi to 
 Lumbwa. In area it is perhaps twice the size of Wales. 
 The climate is one of the most equable in the world. 
 In the hot season the mercury rises to 85 and falls at 
 night to 50; in the cold season these figures sink to 
 80 and 32. If the weather is regular, rains falls in 
 
 * Many tales are told of mistakes made by amateur farmers. 
 One wrote to the agricultural department to inquire tlie cause 
 of a sheep's death ; he had held an autopsy of the carcass, and 
 discovered a suspicious symptom' in the shape of " a bag filled 
 with green stuff " attadied to the liver. Another found his 
 arrangements for the propagation of sheep going wrong; he had 
 supplied one ram to fifteen ewes. 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 223 
 
 April, May, and June; the skies are cloudy till Sep- 
 tember, when rain falls again. From October to March 
 the skies are clear. 
 
 The soil is reasonably fertile, and, in most places, 
 well-watered by small but constant streams. According 
 to degrees of elevation and aspect it produces a great 
 variety of crops. On the high plains wheat succeeds; 
 potatoes and all kinds of European fruit and vegetables. 
 Maize and beans do well. Not far away tea and coffee 
 flourish. In many places there is excellent pasture for 
 sheep and cattle. 
 
 Since timber and stone also abound, and fine sites for 
 houses, it is easy to see that a man with a little capital 
 might naturally form the idea of building a house, farm- 
 ing, and enjoying the rest of his life in the country. 
 This is exactly what many visitors have done, and it 
 now remains to inquire what disappointments they have 
 met with. 
 
 In the first place they have not found the savages at 
 all anxious to resign their freedom and accept the con- 
 dition of wage labourers on European estates. Even 
 when the savages do so engage themselves they are 
 ignorant and awkward, requiring much supervision and 
 provoking much irritation. It is not pleasant to work 
 with them, and the loss of labour at a critical time may 
 mean the loss of a crop. 
 
 The natural conditions which look so promising have 
 turned out deceitful. For the last three years the rains 
 have been irregular, and should this irregularity prove 
 to be the rule, the country would not be worth settle- 
 ment. Irrigation might improve matters, but how could 
 the prime cost of the works be raised? 
 
 Apart from this we are not yet certain of the future 
 
224 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 either of crops or animals. The absence of a winter is 
 unfavourable to the life and fertility of European fruit 
 trees, and it encourages rust in wheat. We cannot be 
 certain if sheep will continue to do well. The native 
 sheep do not carry wool, but coarse, stiff hair; the 
 first crosses with European breeds are promising, but 
 time is required to establish definite results. Sheep 
 may not thrive under the vertical sun on the Equator, 
 and their ,wool may degenerate. 
 
 The prevalence of animal disorders is disheartening. 
 Horses and cattle especially are affected, and fatal epi- 
 demics are common. Science has discovered that the 
 enemy is a " trypanosome " in the animal's blood, con- 
 veyed by a tick or tsetse fly, and various campaigns 
 against this enemy proceed. They involve segregation 
 and fencing off Jarge areas of country — measures which 
 are costly and interfere with trade. 
 
 -Finally, it is not certain whether the climate suits the 
 white man or not. New-comers are confident in its 
 favour; old stagers more cautious. It is thought by 
 marry to affect the nerves, and I noticed myself that 
 after long residence men looked worn — fine, as trainers 
 say of men overtrained. The rarity of the air is blamed 
 by some, the violet ray by others ; by others the sharp 
 contrast of day and night. It is curious what different 
 views prevail about sunstroke. There are some who 
 deny the very existence of such a disorder, and take no 
 precautions against the sun ; there are many who treat 
 it carelessly, and go about in ordinary felt hats. But 
 the medical profession do not countenance this. They 
 will admit that the pathology of sunstroke is unknown, 
 that perhaps the head is less susceptible than we sup- 
 pose, but they recommend covering it. And the neglect 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 225 
 
 of this precaution — which is common in Africa — is 
 blamed by some for the eccentricity, i almost derange- 
 ment of mind, which sometimes follows long residence 
 there. A similar view associates the mental sterility of 
 the negro with the absence of a head-dress. 
 
 From all these considerations it will appear that the 
 future of the country is uncert&in. But optimists may 
 be found (as well as pessimists) ; and the settler's now in 
 the field will not easily be beaten. I should predict 
 their victory with more confidence if there were more 
 genuine settlers among them. The country of British 
 East Africa is better fitted than any country of the same 
 area in the world to support a self-contained community. 
 To the list of its products already given we may add 
 cotton from the lowlands, tobacco, sugar, and coco- 
 nuts. Mangrove and wattle bark for tanning are already 
 exported, likewise hides, all of which might be used in 
 the country. Iron is already made by native smiths 
 into serviceable knives. One can easily see that by a 
 general exchange every settler might be provided by his 
 neighbours with the requisites of life. But in many 
 cases these would be crude and coarse at the outset, 
 and few settlers are prepared to face this. Easy com- 
 munication with Europe brings a desire for European 
 finish ; the Dutch alone are exempt from this desire, 
 and few but they in the country are real settlers. Most 
 of the English are people who would like to make a 
 little money and return to England. To effect this, 
 they must find something they can export, and this 
 they have not yet found. Moreover, when they do find 
 it, the long railway journey, the long transit before 
 any market is reached, and the Suez Canal dues, will 
 handicap their export business. 
 
 p 
 
226 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 Minerals have not been discovered, and geologic 
 indications do not favour hopes in this direction. Pro^ 
 spectors, however, are still abroad, dreaming of a new 
 Johannesburg. Hard and dangerous is their life — there 
 is none more so; few are the prizes in their lottery. 
 They are mostly poor men who fight their way with a 
 scanty retinue through feverish jungles, looking for out- 
 crops, hammering rocks, and washing the sands of 
 streams. It is astonishing how they hope and persevere, 
 while the fruitless, dreary years pass by. 
 
 Few of the English settlers are married. " The 
 public schoolboy " settler is not a marrying man. He 
 is sometimes a loose character who dislikes marriage, 
 and often, I fancy, he does not care to inflict the hard- 
 ships of a frontier life on a girl of his own class. Neither 
 does he care to marry out of his class ; so he does not 
 marry at all. This is another fact that makps the future 
 of the country uncertain. Will this class of resident 
 find successors ? It is just possible that their successors 
 will be like themselves, and that the country will con- 
 tinue to be a place of refuge for younger sons with a 
 little money, who do not care for professional life in 
 England, and prefer to play at farming in Africa. Of 
 course there are other possibilities. Serious farmers 
 may increase in number, especially among the larger 
 holders of land, who will grow wool. But if the wages 
 of native labour rise, the small holder will find it hard 
 to exist. Many critics believe he will disappear, and 
 that the European r61e in the country will be that of a 
 trader buying native produqe for export. 
 
 I do not think the success or failure of the small colony 
 in the highlands a matter of importance to the world 
 at large; the country is too small. It would be a 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 227 
 
 different matter if it were true that Africa on the widest 
 scale were destined to maintain a white population. 
 Among medical men there are some who hold this view, 
 asserting that science is winning a final victory over 
 malaria and other evils, and paving the way tor in- 
 definite expansion by the white man in the Tropics. It 
 may be so. But no profession has more often deceived 
 the world by shouts of victory than medicine, and a few 
 generations must elapse before so great a triumph is 
 established. 
 
 In the meantime, sentiment during my visit was on 
 the whole despondent. My duties led me to visit chiefly 
 married settlers; by a coincidence, usual in human 
 affairs, these were poor and struggling. Some things 
 in their surroundings were pleasant enough ; they had 
 line scenery round them, and food of a kind — maize and 
 vegetables — ^was plentiful. There were none of the 
 stern hardships of Canada. But prospects were not 
 encouraging; and some minor troubles abounded — 
 chigoes, for instance. How many Europeans know 
 what a chigo or a dudu is ? It is a small creature of 
 the flea kind, which the naked eye can scarcely see. 
 Unobserved, it burrows under your toe nail (or else- 
 where in some crevice of your person) and lays a bagful 
 of eggs. These hatch out into little chigoes, who make 
 themselves at home under your skin, and, if left to 
 themselves, take possession of your body till death 
 supervenes. But things seldom go so far, though the 
 negroes often lose toes and limbs from chigoes ; prudent 
 people extract them as soon as they begin to smell. It 
 requires doing carefully. Sir Henry Johnstone says 
 there were none in the country in his day. Perhaps he 
 is right. The creature seems to have travelled over 
 
228 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 from the west coast, as the country was opened up; 
 some day it may cross the ocean to Bombay. 
 
 Settlers' houses are mostly of wattle and mud, but stone 
 buildings are growing up. The difficulty in the way is 
 the high price of labour. There are none but Indian 
 labourers in the country, and their pa,y, sixty rupees a 
 month, is very high for their moderate turn-out. How- 
 ever, I may say that everything in the country is dear. 
 Prices are about four times English prices. I paid four 
 shillings and eightpence in Nairobi for a knife that in 
 England might have cost a shilling. You cannot get 
 your hair cut for less than a rupee ; in England the usual 
 charge is fourpence. 
 
 So, altogether, I cannot tune my note to that of the 
 Uganda Railway Guide, which has this and much else 
 in the same strain to say of the Protectorate: "It is 
 difBcult to say where a more perfect climate than that 
 of Nairobi can be found, and what moi'e can be wanted 
 for successful white colonisation, as so many hard- 
 headed colonials and Britishers appear to think, 
 judging by the number that have already been fore- 
 seeing enough to take advantage of the most liberal 
 land regulations to possess themselves of estates that 
 many an English farmer would envy, and which, in the 
 course of a very few years, will make men out of all 
 who really chose to work. Indeed, we cannot see any 
 drawbacks, etc., etc." 
 
 Pferhaps some part of this enthusiasm may be justified ; 
 I do not wish to exclude it altogether. It is certain that 
 few countries provoke such swift vicissitudes of opinion 
 in the visitor's mind; the very climate at one moment 
 is enchanting and at another abominable. One hardly 
 knows whether to like the cold nights or to dislike them, 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 229 
 
 and chances and prospects of every kind assume diverse 
 hues from hour to hour. 
 
 The mention of the " liberal land-laws regulations " 
 may prelude a statement of the settlers' case against the 
 Government. 
 
 The Government is carried on by officials under a 
 system resembling that of Anglo-India. The oldest of 
 these officials were servants of the company ; they arrived 
 at a time when health and courage and a strong arm 
 were indispensable, and the problems of the country 
 were simple. To-day everything is changed. The'' 
 local politics, though small in scale, present most 
 advanced complexities, and all of the least attractive 
 and least soluble kinds. The white emigrants, diverse 
 in many ways, are alike in this, that they have no ex- 
 perience of life under a bureaucratic system, and regard 
 political " servitude " as ignoble. That, of course, is 
 a tradition of English life, where officials are viewed as 
 public enemies ; in East Africa, where the officials' point 
 of view is bound to differ from their's, the settlers find 
 the system, both by tradition and in its practical results, 
 intolerable. The officials they regard as arrogant, 
 dilatory, and overpaid. But these features of the case 
 do not vex them so much as the views of the ad- 
 ministration, which definitely conflict with those of the 
 settlers. I shall not discuss or even enumerate all their 
 points of difference; it would be necessary to specify 
 every public question of the Protectorate. But I will 
 mention particularly the treatment of the negroes. 
 
 What is to be done with these wretches? forms a 
 question much discussed in drawing-rooms and drink- 
 ing saloons, and all other places where public opinion 
 is formed, as well as in legislative cbuncils. There are 
 
230 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 extremists of all kinds abroad — Humanitarians and the 
 other sort; let us listen for a few moments to their 
 views, and first let the stalwarts speak. 
 
 " This black creature, resembling a man, is not really 
 a man, and should not be treated as such. He has no 
 right to anything, in the proper sense of the word; 
 should he claim anything, the white man should deal 
 with his claims at his personal discretion. Should the 
 nigger, on the other hand, damage the white man or 
 his property, punishment should be swift and bloody. 
 The education of the nigger, or the preaching of the 
 Gospel to him, should be interdicted. He should be 
 forced to work, which is probably best for him, but in 
 any case imperative, and the master for whom he works 
 should have the right to flog him." 
 
 To none of these views will the Humanitarians con- 
 sent; especially do they hold that flogging should be 
 prohibited, and that the negro needs but education to 
 reach white man's level. They do not all believe religion 
 to be good for him, some of them being atheists; 
 neither, on the other hand, are the stalwarts all ir- 
 religious men. I have met members — earnest members 
 — of both Protestant churches and the Church of Rome 
 who hold that Christianity must and does demoralise 
 the negro. 
 
 Between these extremes lie various grades of opinion, 
 firm views on the whole, among the public, pre- 
 dominating. The officials, while not Humanitarian, do 
 undoubtedly uphold negro rights, and incur, on this 
 account, much obloquy. It is charged against them 
 that they neglect to pursue native thieves, that they 
 shrink from the lash and from the valuable principle 
 of collective punishment, do not gather in sufficient 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 231 
 
 taxes, and do not " induce " the natives to work. " We 
 consider," says the Nairobi Chamber of Commerce, 
 ' ' our first duty is towards the native population ; we 
 are not doing our duty by leaving them in their pristine 
 state, discouraging them from taking their proper place 
 in the development of the country." 
 
 It is much apprehended that this unity will lead to 
 catastrophe, and the East African Standard paints a 
 dark picture of the times: " Not a day goes by but 
 white men are jostled in the streets by natives who are 
 still in a semi-state of savagery. Native women prosti- 
 tutes are to be seen riding about the main roads in the 
 same rickshaws which our pure white sisters and wives 
 have to make use of; proprietors of houses of ill-fame 
 are Government tenants; golf caddies on the Nairobi 
 links jeer at white men and white women playing 
 thereon ; and on occasion natives are flogged by Go- 
 vernment servants to secure, or attempt to secure, con- 
 fessions. To enumerate the gross insolence of the East- 
 African native — a mere infant in civilisation — ^wpuld 
 occupy too much space, and be too nauseating to put 
 before our readers. The end of it all will be," says the 
 editor, " probably a massacre of white women and 
 children." 
 
 Now, if you want to know the facts of the case, you 
 must ask some better authority than me, for, after seven 
 months in the country, I had learned little about them. 
 As regards the negro's case, I did only once see a negro 
 struck, and that was by a native chief in the precincts 
 of a Quaker mission. I do not think, on the whole, 
 that much serious violence is used towards negroes, 
 though cases t>f brutality occur. This happens especi- 
 ally on Safari; much less often on farms. As regards 
 
 1-'- 
 
232 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 the settlers' case, I think the apprehensions of violence 
 are overdone, especially violence towards women. Prob- 
 ably thefts of stock are a genuine grievance. 
 
 As regards the grand flogging question, I think it 
 impossible to manage negro labour, in a semi-civilised 
 age, without the occasional use of it. The best judges 
 seem to agree in this; we have only to decide whether 
 the law shall wink at it or regulate it. If common 
 sense prevailed, the latter would be the best plan. Em- 
 ployers of labour should be permitted to flog, provided 
 they reported the case to the nearest magistrate. Failure 
 to do this should entail a flogging for themselves ; there 
 would be few failures. But this suggestion is not 
 practical politics. 
 
 I am glad for my own part that it is not my destiny 
 to have to hold the balance in this strife; the issues 
 are too obscure. Do not think that in stating the views 
 of settlers I feel myself to be putting an impossible 
 position. Such is not the case. The position is at 
 least tenable, and one may quite well hold that the negro 
 is only fit for slavery or extermination. There are cases 
 where the latter measure has been taken. Where are 
 the Tasmanians? Where will the people of Tierra del 
 Fuego be very shortly if, ap I understand, the white 
 men there employ hunters, who are paid so much for 
 every foreskin they bring in. Not much will be left of 
 them ; and who shall deny that Tasmania is worth more - 
 in the sum of things to-day, with a virtuous and en- 
 lightened white population, than if it were crowded with 
 savages ? 
 
 If you or I personally do not like to die our hands in 
 the niggers' blood, this may be cowardice on our part. 
 If we choose, out of pity or curiosity, to try to raise him, 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 233 
 
 why should we make our idle propensity a law for other 
 men? What proof is there that we are right ? Perhaps 
 the true reason for our humanity is that we are 
 bachelors, and can afford to experiment with the future. 
 
 I cannot argue this point; this motive of humanity 
 may be strength or weaJcness. It played no part in the 
 old Aryan system. The old poets of India did not heed 
 the feelings of the " niggers " whom the Aryans drove 
 before them; they called them plainly by name and 
 spurned them. They did not, so far as I know, send 
 missionaries to teach them trades or open the Vedas to 
 them, and when they kicked the aboriginals off the road, 
 they kicked them farther than even the South Africans 
 are wont to do. Why, even in Cape Town the nigger 
 gained his right to the footpath before he possessed it 
 in Travancore. 
 
 But I do not say the Aryans were wrong ; their colour 
 sense was the way they protected themselves. So, too, 
 the whites of Africa feel they must draw the line ; and one 
 is tempted to imagine that in Africa the caste system can 
 be discerned in its beginnings. The man of mixed 
 blood is abhorred by the white no less than the nigger ; 
 his children are excluded from the South- African 
 schools. 
 
 The system may have its advantages; one result it 
 certainly has — a harsh tone in people's views. How- 
 ever right and proper it may be to despise the negro, 
 the mood of scorn seems to corrupt human nature. 
 Perhaps, viewing all things from the eternal standpoint, 
 more would be gained by dropping some of our ideals 
 and mingling our blood with the coloured stream of 
 Ham. I should like to visit some of the mixed popula- 
 tions of the world — South America, for example, which 
 
234 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 is rising faster than people think. No doubt the Indian 
 was a nobler creature than the African — ^at least he 
 fought better — and a strain of Indian blood is accounted 
 no disgrace; Nor is a strain of Maori blood in New 
 Zealand. As for the negro, he and his strain should be 
 viewed in the West Indies. 
 
 Taking things in Africa from the negroes' stand- 
 point, I think the omens for' the future are somewhat in 
 his favour. The first advance of the white man does 
 undoubtedly make a slave of him — whether by name 
 expressly or not — and makes havoc of his institutions. 
 But alleviating influences present themselves, missions, 
 and even Government institutions, which offer to teach 
 him, and economic forces. We do not often think of 
 these as elevating; yet it is a fact that sometimes they 
 ojJerate in this way. They do, in Africa, constantly 
 raise wages, and they improve conditions of work. . It 
 is found from year to year that it pays to treat the 
 Rand miners better. The share of wealth that falls to 
 the native increases, and they are learning how to use 
 it. There are, in fact, critics who, believe that they are 
 strengthening their hold on the land, and that they will 
 slowly but surely drive the white man off it. 
 
 However, I am not writing of South Africa, but of 
 East Africa ; and I have already said that one possibility 
 of the future is that wages will rise, and the white 
 settler will go under. A suspicion of this may underlie 
 the demand for responsible Government, a Gover^i- 
 ment which would certainfy start with the stringent 
 regulations of native affairs. It will not be granted as 
 long as Great Britain supports the country with a grant- 
 in-aid; perhaps never. The British Government will 
 certainly — at present — protect the native, as it protects 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 235 
 
 him now. It accepts the principles enunciated by Lord 
 Selborne elsewhere: "The white man would not be 
 justified in placing any artificial impediment in the way 
 of evolution of the native towards civilisation. In the 
 matter of education the pace should not be forced; 
 the white man should be prepared to help and guide 
 the native who desires to obtain education. Through- 
 out the whole spheres of legislation and administration, 
 the white man should realise his responsibility for the 
 evolution of the natives." So far as sentiments like 
 these prevail, the administration are justified in assum- 
 ing the mottoes of the earlier postage stamps of South 
 Africa and East Africa, " Justice, Commerce, and Free- 
 dom," " Light and Liberty." Here is an aspect of our 
 Empire not often realised, and not acceptable to all 
 Imperialists ; it liberalises the treatment of aboriginals. 
 
 I repeat a doubt whether this liberality leaves the 
 white races a long future in the black men's countries. 
 Lord Selborne thinks their own talents may secure them 
 that; the settlers think otherwise. But what alternative 
 do they propose? Slavery and repression would prob- 
 ably end for them as they ended for the Arabs of 
 Zanzibar; they would decline and perish. Better, then, 
 make a virtue of necessity, and go as an act of grace. 
 
 Better still, others might urge, renounce all calcula- 
 tions and follow the practice of apostolic Christianity. 
 That other worldly system avoided systems. Its type 
 is not Paul, or any other theologian, but those eleven 
 apostles who wrote nothing, and carried with them no 
 argument but a life. It followed the single impulse to 
 raise the wretched, to heal the diseased in body or mind, 
 without regard to the visible hopes or visible fruits of 
 its work. It cared nothing about the rise and fall of 
 
236 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 races, and it has earned by this indifference, justly and 
 inevitably, the hatred of all prudent men, from the days 
 of Rome to our own. Nevertheless, in the darkness of 
 worldly counsels, it offers a sort of light; it remains, 
 therefore, a constant danger, and politicians admit as 
 much when they neutralise its power by inoculating 
 their own systems with a portion of its views. Shall we 
 be content with this device, or shall we desert to the 
 enthusiasts? We know what the world will think of 
 us, but shall we feel any sting in its reproaches" when 
 men say, "You are damaging the future of the white 
 races ' ' ? 
 
 There is one thing indeed which keeps the waverer 
 back, the very small hope of raising the negro by 
 caresses and appeals. Compulsion does not seem to 
 be allowed, on apostolic principles. It is held that the 
 Christi£(n community will assemble itself (as the 
 Buddhist order does), joining by a free impulse in a 
 common life of faith and good works. How many 
 negroes are prepared so to join ? 
 
 One lights here on the question whether Christian 
 doctrine ever has actually raised a savage people. 
 People in high places, officials, authors and others, reply 
 that it has, for no distinguished person ever openly 
 condemns evangelistic work. It is left to anonymous 
 correspondents in colonial papers to take the opposite 
 view — which they do frequently and strongly. When 
 they profess benevolence towards the negro they find 
 salvation for him in the formula " Teach him to work." 
 But as this means slavery it does not promise much, for 
 compulsory work teaches nothing but dislike of work, 
 whether Christianity — true Christianity — has ever 
 raised a savage race remains undecided. 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 237 
 
 I for my own part do a little doubt it. The argu- 
 ment is intricate, partly because Christianity has seldom 
 had a fair trial, partly because it is so difficult to define 
 a savage race. The question was raised when I was in 
 Africa, whether our British forefathers were savages 
 when they were Christianised. I found a curious light 
 cast upon it by a book which I came across there, a 
 collection of Gaelic songs, by the late Mr Alexander 
 Carmichael. Fragments of a more or less remote past, 
 they brought before j one a time when much in the life 
 of the Scotch Highlands resembled the savagery of the 
 Highlands of East Africa. There was the same poverty 
 of material accomplishments. The Scotch life was not 
 more comfortable — nor cleaner — than a negro kraal ; 
 food and clothing were on much the same level. Cattle- 
 raiding and tribal wars were as much the occupation 
 of life, conducted with the same ferocity. In religion 
 there was the same faith in charms, the same fear of 
 the wizard. Now, shall we hold that Christianity 
 here raised a savage people, as it may yet raise 
 the Kikuyu ; or that in the Scotch highlanders, there 
 were present from all time, those germs which are not 
 present in the Kikuyu, and, therefore, never can de- 
 velop. I think that before Christianity approached the 
 Gael, probably there were veins of sentiment in his mind 
 which do not exist in that of the negro. One would like 
 to know the age of the songs which Mr Carmichael has 
 collected. Some are just on a level with the incanta- 
 tions of the negro. Here, for instance, is a charm 
 addressed to a shorn sheep : 
 
 " Go shorn and come woolly; 
 Bear the Beltane female lamb." 
 
238 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 A blessing- on a loom : 
 
 " Since thou, O God, it is who givest growth 
 To each species and kind. 
 Give us wool from the surface of the green grass." 
 
 But at every turn we come across a strain of a higher 
 kind. Here are some verses to be repeated on lying 
 down at night: 
 
 " I am lying down to-night with Father and Son,, 
 With the Spirit of Truth, who shields me from harm. 
 I will not lie down in evil, nor shall evil lie down with me. 
 But I will lie down with God, and God shall He down with me." 
 
 And here is an address to a girl, such as a negro, I 
 suppose, has never conceived : 
 
 " Thou art the joy of all joyous things. 
 Thou art the light of the beam of the Sun. 
 Thou art the door of the chief of hospitality ; 
 Thou art the surpassing star of guidance. 
 Thou art the step of the deer of the hill, 
 A shade art thou in the heat, 
 A shelter art thou in the cold. 
 Eyes art thou to the blind, 
 A staff to the pilgrim, 
 An island at sea. 
 A fortress on land, 
 A well in the desert." 
 
 But, after all, we have to end somewhere, lest, like 
 the rebel angels, " we find no end, in endless mazes 
 lost." So far as the negro's interests go, I declare 
 myself on the side, not of apostolic Christianity, but of 
 the temperate mixture which the more sober missions 
 have devised. His best hopes lie in that; as for the 
 war of interests between him and the whites, I have no 
 long views to propound, and should act, if I had to 
 act, more or less like a coward, on Lord Selborne's 
 principles. 
 
 Now let me turn awhile to an easier task, and depict 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 239 
 
 for you the town of Nairobi, the capital town of the 
 Protectorate. It stands on a plain, half-way between 
 Mombasa and the Lake. The railway officials chose 
 the spot, thinking chiefly of sidings and locomotive 
 works; but for a capital town they chose unfortunately, 
 not foreseeing the future. The site is cramped by a 
 ridge of hills, intersected by a swamp, and, according 
 to the season, muddy or dusty. Progress however is 
 going forward. The plain is being drained, the swamp 
 is being reclaimed by Indian gardeners, and pleasant 
 suburbs are springing up. Some day more graceful 
 trees will take the place of the blue gums, which at 
 present break the winds, and a handsome park will 
 ennoble the centre of the town. That is, if all goes 
 well. At present, things are standing still. A few 
 years ago Nairobi had its boom. Buildings began to 
 rise, of wood, and iron, and even of stone, recalling the 
 mushroom growths of America. Half a dozen news- 
 papers were born, and enthusiasm prevailed. After 
 the boom, the slump — a severe slump indeed; it has all 
 cleared from off the place, all but hard-working citizens. 
 From what I gather, years ago, Nairobi was a hilarious 
 scene; loose characters flocked to the spot, and wor- 
 shipped the Fetich, and fooled themselves to the top of 
 their bent. Halcyon days I But things have changed 
 now; but many of the revellers have left as distressed 
 British subjects (shipped off, for choice, to Bombay). 
 Reason has dethroned unreason and sobriety prevails. 
 Comparatively, that is to say. The value of the drinks 
 and smokes imported at Mombasa is ;^45,ooo per annum, 
 at wholesale prices. (Only much self-denial on the 
 part of so poor a community can have brought down 
 the figure so low.) 
 
240 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 A few of the Nairobi shops are very good; some 
 very bad and dear. The proprietors are mostly averse 
 to taking hints; as an old Anglo-Indian I could have 
 given them a few, for we know something in India about 
 articles 'fit for tropical use. There is a fine Cathedral 
 of the Church of Rome, a small English Church, and the 
 immediate prospect of a Scotch one. But religious in- 
 terests do not flourish ; football flourishes, and six clubs 
 contest the possession of the Dobbie cup with skill and 
 spirit. 
 
 I owe a word of gratitude to the Norfolk Hotel, which 
 I found both reasonable and comfortable. It is the 
 centre of travellers, sportsmen and residents; as many 
 of these residents have been travellers themselves much 
 knowledge of the world may be picked up there. It is 
 a veritable traveller's club ; and I fancy in six months 
 one could pick up there a good local knowledge of the 
 globe. One hears less of India, however, than of other 
 countries ; and I have noticed both here and elsewhere 
 that India remains a world in itself. And when you 
 are in India you are out of the world ; in spite of its three- 
 weekly mail , and the absence of a daily paper ; Nairobi 
 takes more interest in the doings of the world than 
 Bombay. 
 
 The currency of East Africa divides the rupee both 
 into sixteen annas and into a hundred cents. An attempt 
 is made to express all prices in figures, which admit of 
 payment either in annas or cents ; thus you find an article 
 costs you, say twenty-seven cents or eight annas. (I for- 
 get the equivalents ; nobody remembers them.) Thus you 
 find that all your purchases involve catchy sums in arith- 
 metic, while your small change accumulates with embar- 
 rassing rapidity. The cents have a hole in the middle, 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 241 
 
 whereby the negroes string them together for necklaces ; 
 and civilised men, if disposed to be economical, use them 
 as washers in the construction of wood and iron build- 
 ings. They come cheaper than the zinc articles made 
 for the purpose. 
 
 Of the Europeans in the country a large number, 
 perhaps one-fourth of those in the highlands, are Dutch. 
 They began to arrive from South Africa about two 
 years ago, and it is difficult to find out what motive sent 
 them here. I did not understand that any change had 
 made life on their old farms impossible. It appears that 
 perhaps they felt crowded as the south became opened 
 up, and thought East Africa would repiroduce the earlier 
 days when the Boers roamed about the veldt, shooting, 
 tradings and tilling the soil at their will. , Africa does,' 
 beyond doubt, implant a roving disposition in men ; you 
 find an illustration of this in almost every white man you 
 meet there. He is certain to be thinking of going 
 somewhere else and doing something else than you find 
 him doing. So, too, the Boers are a people who love to 
 be on the move, like those ancient Scythians whose 
 houses on wheels interested the Romans. In the Boers' 
 case, the house is known as a Cape wagon. It is 
 immensely large and strong, with a hood over the 
 front part of it. This forms a tent where a Boer and 
 his family can live, while the hind part of the wagon 
 conveys a load of perhaps six thousand pounds. Accord- 
 ing to the road, ten to thirty oxen are required to draw 
 it; hardly any obstacle can bring it to a halt. If it 
 sticks in the middle of a river, the oxen proceed up the 
 further bank and pull it out; if it has to cross a plain 
 covered with ant-hills, each wheel scales an ant-hill as it 
 meets one. Most of the Boers in East Africa brought 
 
 9 
 
242 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 up such wagons with them, and they took them round 
 when they reconvertejd the country. They brought little 
 money, and I wondered often how people so penniless, 
 and so devoid of views, found their way so far afield, 
 However, it is a fact that they arrived, and most of them 
 ended by settling on the Uas N'gishu plateau. This lies 
 on the north-west of the country. It is a wide timber 
 plain, near the Nandi Reserve, about eighty miles from 
 the railway. I suppose the Boers chose it because it re- 
 produced the South Africa they know. 
 
 My duties in the country took me to the plateau to see 
 them. I marched up from Londiam Station, through 
 beautiful woods, across grassy downs to the plateau, 
 and paid some visits to patres familiarum, aipid their 
 new surroundings. The surroundings were not bad. 
 The plain is hot in the day-time, but cold at night, ft 
 is watered by many streams, of which some at least are 
 perennial ; the prospects are good both for sheep and 
 wheat. The first care of the Settlers was to build them- 
 selves houses, chiefly of rough stones and mud, and 
 to plant a little maize for a food supply. I found them 
 busy with this task, and greatly admired the courage with 
 which they fronted the wilderness. Many were very 
 poor — the poorest having always the largest families, 
 and large families being the rule. They were making 
 a careful use of the same, shooting it with discretion and 
 making the flesh into hilpong.* The zebra skins they 
 tan, and cut out into shoes; from the wild berries they 
 prepare vinegar. , 
 
 * Biltong is made by cutting strips albng the muscles, steeping 
 them in salt water, and drying them in the sun and wind. They 
 are quite hard but preserve the taste of the fresh meat for almost 
 any length of time. 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 243 
 
 These are settlers in the strict sense ; they have come to 
 prepare themselves a home in the country. Some of 
 their rude huts have already a few domestic treasures, 
 such as have survived many wanderings; and there is 
 everywhere A disposition among the Boers to value and 
 preserve home life. The children that I saw were always 
 carefully dressed; and it was not without emotion that 
 I beheld in this lonely wilderness, under the tropic sun, 
 troops of little children apparelled like our own village 
 children at home. As to the end of the experiment I can 
 predict nothing. Many of the Boers have already left the 
 country, dissatisfied with the conditions of land tenure. 
 Others have been heard to complain of the sun. It is 
 quite a chance that the same caprice which led them to 
 the country will disperse them again, especially if they 
 find they cannot capture the political control of it. 
 
 My own recollections of the race are pleasant. They 
 received me with such hospitality as lay in their power, 
 and did not embarrass our negotiations with unreason- 
 able demands. I am aware that critics allege against 
 them farsighted dissimulation, exclusiveness, and sel- 
 fishness ; and the course of South African politics since 
 the war is held to justify these charges. I shall not 
 here discuss them but only note them, noting also that 
 English sentiment in South Africa suspects and dislikes 
 the Dutch. It is alleged that in the country districts 
 their sexual morality is low, and the general tone of life 
 is cunning and dishonest. As regards these charges, I 
 think, that under the old regime, there was at least some- 
 thing in them ; there is good evidence that white families, 
 living alone among the native races, deteriorated.* If, 
 
 * Instances may also be found of white men who have deliber- 
 ately renounced civilisation and accepted savagery with all its 
 
244 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 however, it be true that there is a new spirit stirring in 
 the south, that the younger generation of the Boers wish 
 to move forward, .these symptoms of evil disappear. 
 
 That they are a religious people is well known ; I 
 knew it myself, and yet found with surprise that they 
 will not as a rule, shoot game on Sundays., Their 
 ministers^-or predicants — ^are educated men, who rule 
 them in th^ spirit pf Calvin at Geneva. There was no 
 predicant on the scene when I visited the Uas N'gishu; 
 one arrived before I left East Africa. Many of the girls 
 are very pretty; indeed, it was under a Dutchman's tent 
 that I first saw the Maud Muller of Whitter''s dreams. 
 I noted with interest the refinement of some of the 
 younger children, which was due, I think, to the in- 
 fluence of good schools since the war. The question 
 presented itself whether this refinement might not easily 
 be carried so far as to disqualify the Boers for the frontier 
 life they prefer. The danger of hyper-refinement is one 
 that accompanies education at every stage. , 
 
 East Africa — not merely British East Africa, but the 
 whole coast as far as Natal — has its share of Indian 
 settlers. In British East Africa Hindus preponderate, 
 but all are known to the English settlers as Indians. 
 Some few are in Government service; most are artisans 
 or petty traders. Nearly all come from Gujarat. 
 
 It is difficult to say how far they are flourishing, as all 
 
 live with studious economy. I believe, however, that 
 
 remittances to India through ^the Post Office amount to 
 
 Rs. 100,000 a month. 
 
 usages. I heard on good authority of a white woman doing so 
 — Western Africa — and so occasioning both shame and perplexity 
 to the white colony there. There are instances of wfiite degene- 
 rates rising to distinction among the negroes and being accepted 
 by them as chiefs. 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 246 
 
 The various classes and castes of Indian do not co- 
 alesce. They retain their Indian dress and usages, but 
 there are very few Hindu temples in the country. I 
 imagine it is found impossible to fulfil in Africa the re- 
 quirements of Hindu ritual, and the life of Hindus is 
 carried on in a lax and chaotic manner ; no new impulse 
 takes the place of what is lost by exile. 
 
 Indian traders throughout Africa have followed the 
 British flag, which cannot be said of the Arabs, who 
 penetrated the country before us. Nevertheless, to 
 have travelled so far afield shows both courage and en- 
 terprise, and it is somewhat surprising that the Indians 
 one meets in Africa do not convey a stronger impression 
 of vigour and intelligence. They turn up in the most 
 remote stations, always keeping the same microscopic 
 shops, in hunible and even squalid surroundings, and 
 almost always wearing a dejected air and speaking 
 gloomily of their prospects. But this reflection brings 
 up the question how far the pioneers of other races in new 
 worlds have been the best of their kind. I should think, 
 in many countries, the number of Sitrong characters has 
 been small. There have always been in the stream those 
 loose characters who float on the wave of general impulse, 
 various fugitives from justice, ne'er-do-wells, and mal- 
 contents, such as long ago resorted to the Cave of 
 Adullam or peopled the Asylum of Rome. These 
 rogues have sometimes characteristics that help the 
 situation; among white men, if they make bad settlers, 
 at least they fight well. Amongst Indians, who have 
 not fought their way in Africa, some of the poorer speci- 
 mens have at least great powers of stoical endurance, 
 and that, perhaps, is how they have filled their place in 
 the scheme of things. 
 
246 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 The future of the Indian, like all futures, '\s uncertain. 
 On the coast he is well established. In the highlands, 
 white sentiment does not welcome him, and would prob- 
 ably, if allowed to do so, legislate him out of the country. 
 The Colonist's Association in their letter of 8th April, 
 1909, addressing the Governor, report : — " This Associa- 
 tion is strongly opposed to Indians being allowed to 
 settle in the country, even in the lowlands. It is doubt- 
 ful, also, if it will be of advantage to themselves to allow 
 them to settle in the lowlands, in View of the fact that 
 in all probability this Protectorate will eventually be- 
 come a White Colony with Responsible Government, 
 when the Iildian will find himself in the same position 
 as he is now in the Transvaal or Natal." This aversion 
 to Indians extends in many minds to Anglo-Indians, 
 and the Indian Empire generally. I perceived that' one 
 joiarnal recommended that " our Empire should be re- 
 lieyed by amputation from this expensive and trouble- 
 some member." 
 
 It amused me more than once to note the differences 
 between Indian and African ways of doing and looking 
 at things. There »is not, on the whole, the resemblance 
 between the races; if any similarity could be found, it 
 would be among the non-Hindu Santals of Bengal. To 
 begin with little things, the African cannot sit in any of 
 the Indian postures ; he has, in fact, no recognised sitting 
 posture, but sprawls about anyhow, just as a European 
 does, when deprived of his chair. The African has, 
 moreover, invented chairs and stools, which old India 
 knew not. When he — or she — works in the fields he 
 bends from the hips, and does not squat to work. There 
 is not anywhere amongst his women the retiring Hindu 
 disposition. However much he depends on the cow he 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 247 
 
 does not venerate the creature, or connect it with any 
 religious observance. He shows no tendency to repre- 
 sent his gods under a human form. Something distantly 
 like caste may be observed in the position of smiths 
 among the Masai, but the resemblence is a distant one. 
 There is no objection to sharing food with anybody, and, 
 in spite of strong differences between the food of diffe- 
 rent tribes, there is no sense of uncleanness based on such 
 a difference. Never has the African anything like the 
 patience of the Indian, he likes to be moving about, and 
 shows something of the lively sociable disposition of the 
 dog. He is, however, less loquacious than most Indians 
 are; in his native wilds, when working in the fields or 
 walking along the roads, I should almost call him a 
 taciturn personage. As a domestic servant he is noisy 
 enough, and at all times, on great occasions, capable 
 of sustained rhetoric. Sometimes this rises into elo- 
 quence, though more often it degenerates into verbiage. 
 
 I scarcely know what the African thinks of the 
 Indian ; the Indians, whom I questioned concerning the 
 African, expressed chiefly disgust and contempt for 
 him. 
 
 Within the memory of living men the history of Africa 
 has passed from the heroic age to the age of democracies. 
 It is in the collision of races that the interest of the present 
 moment lies ; not long ago it lay in the achievements of 
 individuals. Among these, by general consent, there is 
 no greater name than that of Livingstone. A weaver 
 by trade, swallowed up in the harsh conditions of the 
 early factory system, he emerged by unsparing toil, 
 reached Africa as a humble and ill-paid missionary, and, 
 after many years of obscure labour, set off on those ex- 
 plorations which time will scarcely ever efface from men's 
 
248 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 memories. We discern many traits of such greatness 
 in his nature. His writings are modest and free from 
 sensationalism ; he neither made nor sought to make 
 money, and his religious convictions, sincere beyond 
 all question, are expressed with much reserve. His 
 habits of life were austere ; he carried his neglect of 
 comfort so far as to impair his powers and hasten his 
 death. His pietywas not the siipramundane order of St 
 Francis, or St Xavier; he kept in view the civilisation 
 as well as the spirited advancement of the negro. He 
 desired to substitute commerce for pillage ; and certainly 
 noted the improvements needful among the negroes in 
 the arts of life. He was, moreover, a first rate scientific 
 observer. We forget quite readily, since he never 
 presses them upon us, his endurance and his courage. 
 During all the thousands of miles he travelled, he never 
 employed violence, and in his great days, before he was 
 worn out by illness and fatigue, his command Qver 
 negroes never failed. Towards the end of his life, the 
 passion for geographical research to some extent replaced 
 his missionary enthusiasm; it seems pathetic to record 
 that he perished in the pursuit of a false idea. He was 
 tracing the LUalaba River, fully confident it would prove 
 to be the Nile; he did not live to find that it was the 
 Congo. Even at that date the disposition of the lakes 
 and rivers of Central Africa was a mystery ; and one finds 
 with astonishment that Livingstone, who always worked 
 from the south, was ignorant thaf the Victoria Nyanza 
 existed. 
 
 I do not know whether there is a statue of Living- 
 stone anywhere, probably not; really famous men need 
 no statues. But his memorial is the Livingstonic 
 mission near Lake Tanganyika. It is a light to lighten 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 249 
 
 the Gentiles, and to bear witness that all Europeans are 
 not immersed in schemes of greed or glory. 
 
 I pass over many illustrious names to devote a para- 
 graph to Tippoo Tib. Because he was an Arab, and we do 
 not always remember the great qualities which the Arabs 
 displayed in East Africa. We are somewhat set against 
 them by the evil they did. Of doing good in Africa 
 they had no idea whatever. They held and still hold 
 that the native African is born to be a slave, and to cap- 
 ture slaves was just exactly half the business in- Africa, 
 the other half being to carry off ivory. The pursuit of 
 these ends thus promoted was without mercy, carrying 
 ifire and sword throughout the country. They gave the 
 negro nothing in return for this — not even the faith of 
 Islam, for this never spread and was never preached in 
 East Africa. But credit is due to them for much perse- 
 verance and force of character. Of these qualities a great 
 example was Tippoo Tib, a famous Arab of Zanzibar, 
 whose name was once all powerful as far as the Congo. 
 Slave-raider, ivory dealer, and owner of plantations, he 
 was the richest man in East Africa. Europeans he 
 appreciated and served well, being a faithful ally of most 
 European explorers in the seventies. His biography 
 has been written and published, and read and forgotten ; 
 but some memories of his name cling to his house in 
 Zanzibar, now a hotel. 
 
 Along with him let me commemorate the savage po- 
 tentates, whose day is past. Some of these were makers 
 of nations; had the Ethiopians produced more of their 
 strain, they might have travelled further on the path of 
 human development. But those were few who emerged, 
 and their thoughts were set more on martial than on 
 civil triumphs. 
 
250 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 As Britons, we are too prone to neglect the part played 
 in the drama by Europeans of other nations. But many 
 of the great explorers were Germans; some, too, of the 
 missionaries. They have not, however, produced men so 
 practical or so apprOpriative as the British. Their 
 greatest name in this region is that of Peters, and he 
 seems to me one of the most interesting figures among 
 all. He was a German of the high Imperialist school, 
 penetrated with an unwavering faith in the destiny of 
 Germany. England he found lying across his path, 
 and to humble England became with him a dream and 
 a passion. He believed in the future of Africa as a scene 
 of the white man's expansion, and he was determined 
 that on this scene Germany, and not England, should 
 play the leading part. I will not follow his career, but 
 will briefly recall its most dramatic episode. 
 
 When the Mahdi rose to power, Emin Pasha — himself 
 a German — was left isolated in the Soudan; an expedi- 
 tion was equipped in England to rescue ,him. The 
 command was offered to Stanley, who advanced up the 
 Congo, and brought Emin down to Zanzibar. While 
 Stanley was on his way, Peters organised a rival expedi- 
 tion in Germany, to approach Emin through Masailand. 
 It can hardly have been called an expedition for Emin's 
 rescue; since its numbers were, in any case, too small to 
 ha:ve assisted him, and it is probable that Peter's object 
 from the first was to create some fighting power out of 
 Emin's resources and establish a military power under 
 the German flag on the Upper Nile. The British au- 
 thorities, preceiving this, refused to allow him to land in 
 East Africa; but Peters, with great skill and daring, 
 evaded their blockade, landed, marched up the Tana, 
 and reached up the boarders of Uganda. There he 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 251 
 
 learned, to his chargin, that Stanley had anticipated him, 
 and Emin Pasha had left the Soudan. Making the best 
 of the case, he hastened into Uganda, and was just 
 persuading the King to accept the German flag, when 
 letters arrived from Germany disowning his action and 
 renouncing Uganda, as well as all the annexations of 
 Peters on the Tana. In much mortification he retired 
 to Germany and published his account of the transaction 
 in " New Light on Darkest Africa." 
 
 Peters had no interest in the natives of Africa. He 
 was neither a savant nor a missionary, and he was too 
 busy with other thoughts to concern himself with ex- 
 ploiting them in any way. But he fiercely resented 
 their interference with his plans, and required from them 
 instant compliance with all his demands. " Oderint 
 dum metuant is the only practical motto for Africa " 
 he writes ; and he tells us that if a man looked into his 
 tent he flogged him, if he shouted rudely at his 
 Safari, he shot him, The English explorers, who were 
 less drastic, he charges with cowardice, especially Joseph 
 Thomson, his predecessor through Masailand, of whom 
 it is recorded that in all his African travels he never 
 caused the loss of a single life. Which of the two was 
 right? It is not so easy to judge, and I will not say 
 Joseph Thomson, who suffered the Masai to tweak his 
 nose, shows altogether to advantage. There is no doubt 
 the Masai were insolent and bloodthirsty tyrants ; and' 
 the lesson Peters taught them has been useful to pacific 
 travellers. 
 
 Peters united in a curious way the sentimental and 
 enthusiastic character of old Germany with the aggres- 
 sive tone of the present age. His pages are full of 
 religious protests. " A higher hand," he says, " led 
 
252 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 us manifestly through all hindrances and dangers." 
 When he thought of its workings, tears came into his 
 eyes. He was conscious of nothing in his deeds that 
 would not stand scrutiny. " The great principle that 
 makes itself felt throughout the universe is the principle 
 of unlimited justice. During the whole time of my lead- 
 ing the expedition I was always conscious of acting on 
 this principle." In his harangue to the people of Uganda 
 he tells them that " we are all Christians; we know the 
 words of Jesus and love them." 
 
 Was this vulgar hypocrisy? I think only a vulgar 
 judgment will suppose so, yet Peter's character remains 
 a mystery. His name in British East Africa is a by- 
 word for lust and cruelty; and in his own country he 
 was condemned on charges of this character.* Yet 
 knowing all the possibilities of error, I hesitate in my 
 own mind to assent to the verdict; it is possible, however, 
 that Peters, like other men, degenerated under the tempta- 
 tions of African travel. One thing, however, is clear 
 against hin?, that he did not understand Englishmen. 
 The view that Englishmen at heart are timid, that their 
 placability is cowardice, much favoured by some German 
 and then foreign critics, is unfortunately not correct. 
 Peters himself tells us, with justice, that England has yet 
 to suffer for underrating her energies. The Boer War 
 justified his words, yet, with unespected naivet6, he is 
 guilty of the same fault in estimating the character of 
 Englishmen. Now, pleasant as it is to think evil of our 
 enemies, prudence bids us' indulge the propensity with 
 care. 
 
 Truly England has been fortunate in Africa. Neg- 
 
 * See the Frankfurter Zeiting of ajrd Jiily, 1905. The charges 
 include whipping his concubines and shooting his servants. 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 253 
 
 ligent, dilatory, and unsystematic as the policy of her 
 Home Government has ever been, from Cairo to the 
 Cape ; yet the flag waves to-day over the fairest portions 
 of the Continent. Had she been as far-sighted as she has 
 been fortunate, Kilimananjo and Delagoa Bay, the 
 two things she has missed, might easily have been hers. 
 One claim alone she may make on the ground of merit, 
 that the ablest men on the spot have been hers ; not only 
 in Egypt but in the east and south of the country. Sir 
 Henry Johnstone in East Africa, Sir John Kirk and Sir 
 Lloyd Matthews in Zanzibar, Sir Bartle Frere and Cecil 
 Rhodes in the south are names which no other country 
 can parallel. So perhaps once more we are driven back 
 on the adage quoted by Aristotle, " Skill is enamoured 
 of Fortune, and Fortune of Skill." At any rate we 
 perceive that in the critical hour France retired at 
 Fashoda, Germany in Uganda, and each of these 
 powers resigned its last chance of an African Empire. 
 
 Uganda 
 
 Beyond the great lake, in the heart of the Continent, 
 lies the pearl of Africa — Uganda. You reach it from 
 Kisumu, travelling nowadays luxuriously in a steamer 
 where not long ago you would have had to imperil your 
 life in a dhow or a canoe. The lake, like all inland 
 waters, can rise in formidable waves, and the tourist, 
 though secure against a watery death, stands a good 
 chance of sea-sickness. 
 
 Uganda is a country about three thousand feet high. 
 The surface consists of rolling hills; there are forest 
 stretches here and there, and little rows of forest run up 
 the valleys. But the striking feature in the vegetation is 
 usually the plantain groves, for people live on plantains, 
 
254 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 and all the villages are buried in plantain foliage. The 
 air is moist and hot, rain falls throughout the year, and 
 heavy thunder-storms are common. Thus everything 
 is green^except in rare seasons of drought — and 
 Uganda, in this as in other points, conjtrasts with, many 
 parts of Africa. 
 
 Stanley was the, first explorer to make the country 
 known; he was struck by the civilised and inquiring 
 character of the people and their desire for Christianity. 
 He published an account of them in The Times, 
 and the C.M.S. sent five missionaries to the country. 
 These, on their arrival after a long and toilsome 
 journey, are beginnihg to meet with some success, 
 when the Church of Rome, disquieted by the perversion 
 of an important branch of the negro race, dispatched 
 a mission of the White Fathers to counteract them. 
 Mohammedan emissaries were also at work, and a 
 period of intrigue and bloodshed followed. Political 
 considerations were added to those of religion ; the wa- 
 catholici representing the interests of France, the wa-pro- 
 testonti those of England. A little later the Germans 
 also appeared on the scene, when Dr Peters made his 
 bold attempt to plant the German eagle there. The" 
 British East African Company long refused to annex the 
 country, recognising that it could not pay for a white 
 administration ; and it would have passed under some 
 othef flag than ours had not a popular movement in 
 England compelled thei Government to retain control 
 of it. At present it is administered jointly by the king 
 and chiefs, and by a white Civil Service. Expenses are 
 met by local taxation and a great-in-aid from the British 
 Exchequer of ;;^ioo,ooo a year. 
 
 The people of Uganda are locally known as Baganda. 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 255 
 
 They are strong and vigorous in physique, the girls 
 especially gro-wing tall and stout at an early age. They 
 do not keep cattle but cultivate the soil, living almost 
 entirely on plantains of which, for the most part, they 
 eat one meal — a very good meal — once a day. The plan- 
 tains are gathered green, and boiled, and eaten with a 
 little vegetable sauce. It is a simple fare and rather in- 
 sipid; the use of grain and meat is spreading to-day. 
 One large rat, a delicacy, is appropriated to the table of 
 the king. 
 
 Clothes are un,iversal. When first the country was 
 known they were made of bark-cloth. This was procured 
 from the bark of a tree, beaten out with wooden mallets. 
 In substance it resembled brown paper; in colour a 
 Sanyasi's robe. It was cumbrous and very durable, 
 so that the present change to cotton cloth is for the 
 better. One could wish, however, that some sensible 
 forms of dress had been discovered and adopted. The 
 women are taking to, the Swadi robe, the men to the 
 Arab kanzu, both of which, especially the latter, are 
 the most impractical dresses in the world. 
 
 The old-fashioned house was a large beehive of straw. 
 It was larger than the kraal huts, and capable of some 
 dignity of appearance. The king's house, made of 
 selected reeds, with a pattern woven in the portico, was 
 not devoid of royal dignity, and it was a highly charac- 
 teristic dwelling. One regrets the disappearance of 
 these houses, without seeing how to retain them. They 
 were dark, cramped, and verminous, and much exposed 
 to the risk of fire. Moreover they were expensive to 
 build and repair. Square houses of mud and brick are 
 replacing them ; and people are learning to build on a 
 plinth, which is a real step in civilisation. 
 
256 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 Uganda was already remarkabjle, when the country 
 was discovered, for the feudal organ isatiovi of its society. 
 The king, the chiefs, and the common people found 
 , those orders living under a system of severe subordina- 
 tion. Money was unknowjn, and services and payments 
 were all in kind. The king's authority was supported 
 by a large body of soldiers, and his edicts were rigor- 
 ously enforced. 
 
 So far as the history of Uganda is known to us — 
 and that is only for a short time — the fruits of the system 
 were much like the fruits of the same system elsewhere. 
 Its close organisation gave the state many advantages in 
 war; the Baganda domineered over less progressive 
 tribes, and one* thing they have lost under our flag is the 
 privilege of plundering their neighbours within the con- 
 fines of Uganda. For the most part things went well 
 and life was easy. Food was plentiful, leisure and 
 amusement abundant. The dark shadow over men's 
 lives was cast by the state religion, ^which required human 
 sacrifices on a vast scale. The king's diviners informed 
 hiin of the number needed, and the auspicious marks 
 which would be found on their persons. The Kiwendu 
 or secret police then went forth to arrest them. They 
 perished in various ways ; sometimes their arms and legs 
 were broken , and they were exposed to crocodiles on the 
 shores of the lake. ' 
 
 Before death, the victims drank out of a special pot, 
 with the effects, as was supposed, of conferring on the 
 king the power to control their spirits. Such belief in 
 magical powers was — and is — widespread throughout 
 Uganda. When the secret police went forth clairvoy- 
 ants used to trace their course, divine their intentions, 
 and warn persons threatened to keep out of their sight. 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 257 
 
 All state punishments in old days were cruel ; one or 
 both eyes were scooped out for trifling offences. Sufferers 
 are still visible, as well as the old man who blinded 
 them. It was a simple matter, says he; "I just put my 
 thumb in — so ! ' ' Another penalty was the loss of a 
 hand, it was cut off with a strip of bamboo, in less than 
 a minute; and sometimes the culprit's legs were gradu- 
 ally smashed by continuous taps with a hammer. A 
 capricious king would sometimes create new offences, 
 and visit them with their formidable punishments ; 
 Mtesa ordered that every man should wear a button on 
 his waist, on pain of losing his hand, and every woman 
 one on her waist on pain of being cut in half. 
 
 As one consequence of the court system social 
 manners became refined.* For such is the soil in 
 which refinement grows, the atmosphere in which it 
 flourishes. Among armed neighbours, in the absence 
 of law, it behoves a man to think twice before he speaks, 
 and to handle the truth carefully where his neighbours'' 
 feelings are involved. So, too, when a man speaks in the 
 presence of a despot, politeness pays. Writers on good 
 manners are slow to believe this ; they would like to found 
 good manners on good will. But this purification of 
 social intercourse will not precede the millennium. 
 
 One may inquire what the changes of the past few 
 
 years have brought Uganda in the way of good and 
 
 evil. It is a good thing that the Kiwendu are no more; 
 
 that life and property are secure, that human rights are 
 
 better recognised. Whether Justice is done between man 
 
 * Greetings are long and complicated ; the lower orders flop 
 down on their knees when they address their superior. Should 
 you meet a party of men working on the road it is proper to com- 
 pliment them on their activity, for it is not to be supposed they 
 are working merely because they are paid to do so. 
 
 S 
 
258 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 and man I cannot say, but the evils of intricate procedure 
 and protected appea,ls, evils common in similar countries 
 elsewhere, do not seem to be flagrant here. The system 
 prescribes much liberty to the native chiefs, who, one 
 may suppose, understand their subjects. The use of 
 money has, to some extent, imported a mercenary spirit 
 into life, while bringing with it more individuality, more 
 initiative, and more sense of responsibility. This is 
 the common course of events in such cases ; one does not 
 gather that the worst consequences predominate. The 
 one serious evil is the growth of a class of dissolute 
 women. The Christian system, forbidding polygamy, 
 leaves many women unprovided for, and their number 
 has been increased in recent years by the prevalence of 
 sleeping sickness — which has been fatal chiefly to men 
 — and the disappearance of many men as coolies. In 
 earlier days the superfluous women were assorted as 
 wives; they are now thrown on the market. Married 
 women, too, are charged with much laxity of morals; the 
 older systiem repressed this by the use of the stick, which 
 has not been replaced by any other form of pressure. 
 Young men, too, finding wives less useful and less 
 amenable than formerly, tend to evade marriage. 
 Finally, syphilis ravages both sexes, and the number 
 of children born is decreasing. Few even of these 
 survive, for countless thousands die through neglect 
 and error. 
 
 Still, life is stirring. The national council of the 
 Baganda prepends these evils and takes steps to fight 
 them ; Government and the Church assist. The greater 
 part— though not all — of the Baganda are Christians, 
 and strong influences for good are not wanting in the 
 country. It is the policy of Protestants to confer on the 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 259 
 
 negroes a large share of power; and though distin- 
 guished characters are not forthcoming, useful and up- 
 right men are not rare among them. 
 
 To be critical, I think the country needs a sound and 
 sensible educational system. At present all ^education 
 is in the hands of the churches, and no help is received, 
 from Government. It is therefore cramped for want of 
 funds ; there is no system of training teachers, and in- 
 dustrial education is wholly neglected. Thus, among 
 a people of great natural talents, we find it is still necesl- 
 sary to import Indian artisans; and the classes which 
 should supply these if educated at all are educated for 
 office careers. Village schools are non-existent or ill- 
 supplied with teachers. The study of English is unduly 
 pressed. 
 
 Certainly the schools which do exist, of their type, 
 are excellent. I visited the Mengo High School, the 
 Budu High School, the Gyasa Girls' School. These all 
 possess fine buildings, and the work done in them is 
 thorough. The Budu School has buildings and sur- 
 roundings of a noble character ; it is fitly placed on a 
 great centre of the old spirit worship, with a distant 
 view of Kampala and the lake. The boys here, though 
 not of the industrial classes, nevertheless receive some 
 manual training, and are taught to look on the world as 
 a scene of work. The girls at Gyasa belong to the same 
 class, and are taught in the same spirit. 
 
 I doubt somewhat if everything has been done to 
 incorporate the old system in the new. This is easily 
 said; nevertheless I feel bound to say it. Why, for 
 instance, should the old musical system have been dis- 
 carded? The Baganda are very fond of music; they 
 have lutes of their own, with six strings, which they 
 
260 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 carry with them, and play as they walk about. (In 
 fact our child's idea of paradise is quite realised in 
 Uganda, where people may be seen clothed in white 
 robes, walking about with harps, amid green fields, 
 singing and playing all day long.) I grant the music 
 they discourse is rudimentary — perhaps it was the only 
 policy to introduce our scale ; yet I feel a kind of doubt 
 whether this was so. I feel much the same doubt whether 
 .the young King is being wisely educated. He has an 
 English tutor, a bungalow, and a drawing-room with 
 brown monochromes after Watts on the walls. He is 
 a nice quiet sort of boy with nothing that is not amic- 
 able about him ; the ^nost we can hope is that he will 
 remain such and not take to evil courses. The son of 
 the Prime Minister has been educated in England; we 
 had a very pleasant interview, and, so far as I can see, 
 all has been gained that could have been hoped for by 
 sending him there. But how many blanks there must 
 be in his life ! 
 
 Still, it cannot be too constantly remembered that no 
 human problems are soluble, that any system must be 
 called, a success if it escapes failure, and I should not 
 call Uganda a failure. In many ways there is progresis 
 going on. The econornic departments of the Gov- 
 ernment are active; people are learning the secrets, of 
 tobacco and cotton-growing. Mistajces are visible; 
 waste of 'effort ; there are too many transfers of officials ; 
 there is too little knowledge of the Uganda language ; 
 but on the whole there is progress and hope. 
 
 For Europeans the country is not favourable. Black- 
 water fever, spirillum, and sleeping sickness are speci- 
 alities, while other tropical disorders abound. Though 
 the nights are cool, and the heat not unbearable, still 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFBICA 261 
 
 there is no cold season, and life is exhausting. To 
 those few who are born to love the Tropics Uganda is 
 attractive ; but they will always be few. Uganda is a 
 land of negroes; I trust it will remain such. The people 
 have been called — perhaps too fondly — the 'Japanese of 
 Africa; it remains to see what they will achieve. 
 
 Their past is in every way a mystery. They have no 
 writings, and practically no traditions. Some details of 
 their manners suggest that they came from, or had once 
 siome dealings with, Egypt. Their musical instruments 
 resemble those of Egypt ; so does some of their pottery. 
 But all amounts to little; they remain, like other races, 
 a type emerging, unaccountably, but actually a fact, and 
 destined when their day is run to yield to other types. I 
 must confess I had moments when I thought they were 
 already efftete ; their suavity of manner was oppressive, 
 and r felt I preferred the ruder but more vigorous style 
 of their naked neighbours, the Kavirondo. 
 
 They are not an artistic people. Their artistic work 
 is for the most part procured from neighbouring races, 
 whom they conquered. Their shields however are the 
 most striking in Africa. It is notable that with the ad- 
 vent of European ideas people have lost interest in their 
 best achievements; what decorative art they had is van- 
 ishing.* Government has started a museum, in which 
 some good samples are collected, but much has already 
 left the country. An ingenious kind of druin is much 
 used and supplies the place of a chime of bells in the 
 Cathedral. 
 
 Kampala, like Rome, is a city built on seven 
 
 * In Uganda, as elsewhere, both in Africa and Asia, people are 
 too careless or too idle to make good articles for those who really 
 desire to buy them. This is one reason why native art declines. 
 
262 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 hills, the King's palace occupies one, the C.M.S. 
 another, the Church of Rome a third, and so on. 
 Outside is a gieneral bazaar, much on the Indian lines, 
 and the public offices. The houses of the negroes are 
 hidden in plantain grpves, and approached by a few good 
 roa,ds and many winding paths. One of the best roads 
 leads to the King's palace ; it is surrounded by several 
 palisades of elephant grass, neatly woven. Among the 
 group of buildings there is the old palace, the new 
 bungalow, the buildings for the royal drums, and that 
 for the Umbilical chords of the royal line. These curious 
 • fragments are preserved with religious care in baskets 
 of a special shape. The drums are beaten at stated times 
 by a hereditary drummer, vsrho accompanies their music 
 with loud howls; he was the only living vestige of the 
 past that I saw, the only bit of Uganda that Stanley 
 would have recognised. Not far away is Parliament 
 House, a well-arranged building, with a throne and two 
 rows of seats. I believe the debates are dignified and 
 sensible 5 I am sorry I had no opportunity of obser- 
 ving one. 
 
 The chief building in Kampala is the Protestant 
 Cathedral.* It stands on the highest hill and domi- 
 nates the city. The walls are of bfick ; the roof of thatch. 
 The exterior is not striking, and does not prepare the 
 visitor for the impression within. That impression gives 
 the building a place of its own among the cathedrals of 
 the world. The roof is supported by a wooden frame- 
 work of admirable design, and the framework and the 
 underside of the roof are covered with long reeds. The 
 regularity with which these are laid and their rich mel- 
 low hue invest the interior with unique and ineffaceable 
 * Since destroj'ed by lightning. 
 
A Glimpse of Africa 26^ 
 
 charm. It is pleasant also to reflect that this perpetuates 
 the original style of Uganda buildings, while adding to 
 it a dignity previously unknown ; and that the whole 
 building was erected by the voluntary work of the 
 negroes. Around the Cathedral are clustered schools 
 and a divinity college and other buildings; the one cir- 
 cumstance to regret is that the summit of a hill is an 
 inaccessible place, and the ascent to Mengo is a trial of 
 the worshipper's constancy in faith. 
 
 Of all scenes in Uganda the most memorable is no 
 doubt the source of the Nile. The lake scenery in 
 general is but moderately interesting ; it is at its best no 
 doubt in those parts where there are groups of islands. 
 But ^he source of the Nile is worthy of the river. The 
 water sweeps round a promontory up an inlet, and plunges 
 down a large waterfall into a ravine. The change from 
 lake to river is clear and swift; on one side of the line 
 we have the lake, on the other the Nile, fully borne and 
 travelling on its course. A few islets break the waterfall ; 
 the scene is enlivened by the flight of birds and fish 
 leaping up the cataract ; the water is pure and fresh and 
 goes dancing blithely down the ravine. 
 
 At present just enough has been done by man to make 
 the spot accessible without spoiling it;' just enough, 
 for anything more could be a mistake. Surely it was 
 not necessary to stretch a telegraph wire across the 
 river ? And it is really proposed to make the falls into 
 a power station. Politicians are never to be trusted — 
 nor explorers either — who was it that conferred upon 
 this sacred scene the name of ' ' Ripon Fall ? ' ' What 
 dean or marquis is commemorated in this impious way ? 
 Is not this the source of the Nile, which thousands of 
 generations have desired to see ? , 
 
264 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 It must have been seen by some prehistoric eye, for 
 even Aristotle knew that the Nile springs from a vast 
 lake in the remote interior. Yet only yesterday was the 
 veil drawn 4 And even now I doubt if we have really 
 seen the sources of the Nile. For where does the water 
 of the lake come from ? If you add up all that visibly 
 enters it and deduct what visibly leaves it, and allow for 
 evaporation, it is doubtful if the lake is explained; and 
 peradventure the true source of the Nile is a spring that 
 for ever remains concealed in her bosom. 
 
 Passing the shores of the lake one perceives they 
 are green and smiling — and deserted by reason of the 
 sleeping, sickness, the name which all the world knows. 
 It is a lingering complaint, beginning with vague pains 
 and ending after some months in coma and death. It 
 seems to have come, with increase of intercourse, from 
 the West, but its history is unknown. It is xiue to the 
 presence of a germ in the blood, a germ conveyed by the 
 tsetse fly; as for the fly, he is no other to look at than 
 a common fly. He buzzes about in the sunlight and settles 
 on your skin and bites. you. Without effect, if he is not 
 himself inoculated; but if he is a " wrong un " (as an 
 •American said), with the result that sooner or later — it 
 may be years later — you fall sick and perish. Medical 
 science knows so tnuch, and no more; no remedy has 
 been found. As the fly lives only near water, means have 
 been taken to remove the population from the borders 
 of the lake ; all fishing is prohibited, and the grass which 
 shelters him has been cut down near important stations. 
 But the end of the rnischief is not in sight yet ; it will be 
 added to the other troubles of British East Africa and 
 may steal its way across to India. 
 
 Uganda does not at present pay as a possession. With 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 265 
 
 better cultivation it may do so ; our hopes are chiefly 
 founded on cotton. But it is in a sense the keystone of 
 the arch in our African possessions. It commands the 
 headquarters of the Nile; as a Christian country it 
 excludes the waves of Pan Islamia'from the south of 
 Africa. And, once more, if certain symptoms of decay 
 can » be arretted, it may have a future before it, and 
 may present the world with the first type of a real 
 negro civilisation. 
 
 I have forgotten to mention that the country is the 
 true home of the grey parrot — most beautiful and most 
 talented of birds. Many thousands of them are dis- 
 patched into exile every year, and I saw cases full of 
 victims at Entebe. What a mystery of fate this is, that 
 gifts so useless to the race of parrots should entail upon 
 them such a sea of troubles ! Happily mankind is ex- 
 terminating their ill-starred tribe ; the grey parrot is well 
 on the way to extinction. 
 
 Zanzibar — / 
 
 Zanzibar is an island off the east coast of Africa. By 
 the derivation the word means " Land of the blacks," 
 but the Arabs interpret it as Zayn za I'barr, " Fair is this 
 land. ' ' They have on their side if not etymology at any 
 rate both fact and fancy, as far as the island goes. It is 
 truly a fair, land; a land of rolling hills for ever green, 
 encircled by a coral beach and a world of sapphire 
 waters. It is never cool, and for the most part of the 
 year it lies simmering like a cauldron above a furnace. 
 
 The richest products of the Tropics grow there un- 
 bidden. The mango bears a double crop, and its fruit 
 is hardly ever out of season. Pine-apples spring up like 
 
266 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 weeds from the soil; plantains, coco-nuts, and cassara 
 reject the aid of the husbandman. Till the earth with a 
 hoe and she smiles forth crbps. But useful animals 
 she does not encourage, and beasts of draught and burden 
 perish beneath the sun and the microbes of disease. ■> 
 
 In ancient times Marco Polo visited these shores 
 and found them full of naked negroes " looking like 
 very devilsi." Who these were we know not; nor do 
 we know anything of the Persian settlements, which 
 occupied the land before a.d. iooo. Later on came 
 Arabs from Oman, but it was not till the nineteenth 
 century they took the place seriously. In 1799 it was 
 first visited by English shipsl. 
 
 In 1832 Seyyid Said of Oman came and settled here. 
 He was a great and vigorous ruler ; under him rose the 
 city of Zanzibar as we see it to-day. It stands on the 
 western coast, on a bay which is sheltered during most 
 of the year, though in some months it is dangerous 
 for shipping. The value of the harbour is partly due 
 to^ its position between the two monsoons; it was 
 convenient for dhows to approach from the north-east, 
 and it formed a centre for traffic with all parts of the 
 Continent. It was safe from attacks by the negroes; 
 and behind it lay fertile, unexploited land. All this 
 did the far-sighted Sultan perceive, and by wise and 
 vigorous measures he exploited his dominions. He 
 established a vast and lucrative trade in slaves, who were 
 shipped off to Asia; his followers scoured the mainland 
 for ivory, and on Zanzibar they introduced the clove. 
 This was no small feat, for the seed is difficult to trans- 
 port; but the difficulty was vanquished and Zanzibar, 
 with its sister island Pemba, became the world's em- 
 porium for cloves. 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 267 
 
 Sultan Said was a ruler of the classic, oriental type. 
 He cared not for western notions and refused to set up 
 the tide gauges which the Societe Royale des Anti- 
 quaires du Nord presented to him. But he fostered 
 trade, maintained order, built himself palaces, and died 
 full of years and wives and riches. He had seventy 
 concubines and thirty-two children living at that time. 
 A contention regarding the heritage brol?e out, and 
 Great Britain, invited to arbitrate, decreed that it should 
 be divided, the Sultanate of Zanzibar being separated 
 from that of Muscat. One more good ruler was des- 
 tined to Zanzibar, Sultan Bavghash. After his time 
 the continental dominions passed under the control of 
 Europe, Germany buying half for four million francs, 
 and England renting' the other half. This arrangement 
 still continues. The island is still an independent state. 
 The Sultan's red flag floats above it, his physiognomy 
 distinguishes the postage stamps, and his officers ad- 
 minister the country, but they have to comply with 
 modern — or western — ideas, and are watched by English 
 officials. He receives a fixed allowance of three hundred 
 thousand rupees for personal expenses, which the present 
 incumbent of the throne spends chiefly in Europe. I 
 understand that he is an educated man, of a type which 
 educates badly, and is not prepared to interest himself 
 in the dull programme of sanitation, etc., etc. 
 
 Well, this is a thrice-told tale. I don't know that the 
 fate of the Arabs in Zanzibar specially deserves our 
 sympathy. They went there as conquerors and would 
 have had no grievance if other conquerers ejected them. 
 Instead of that, the Germans paid them four million 
 marks for a territory which was never theirs, which they 
 neither controlled nor administered,, and they draw a rent 
 
268 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 from Mombasa which they are quite lucky to get. They 
 still have their chance to rise in the new world, but 
 they are not prepared to take it. Their day is over. It 
 remains to specify the evils at work among them and 
 their causes. 
 
 They are much disinclined for trade, especially for 
 petty trade, and for any kind of manual work. They 
 disdain to«pay wages to the blacks, and would rather 
 face ruin than this humiliation. They abhor book-keep- 
 ing, and once fallen into pecuniary straits become hope- 
 lessly involved with Indian moneylenders. Some have 
 yielded to the temptations of drink, almost all to those 
 of debauchery. A:n^ clean diseases are common even 
 among the schoolboys. The decay of parental control 
 is a feature common in such epochs and well marked 
 here. 
 
 Now part of this decay must be attributed to the effect 
 of depressing European ascendancy. It is probably true 
 that the Arab,, unable to overtake the European, lost 
 heart in the struggle to compete with him. But this is 
 not the whole truth. Still more must be attributed to a 
 system which made rapine the foundation of prosperity, 
 and relegated all manual work to slaves. Under such 
 a system sexual self-indulgence is an early consequence, 
 and every sort of moral decay is ensured. It is true 
 slave-holding systems have lasted long; it is true also 
 that no system lasts for ever, but the slave-holding 
 system surely promises least. 
 
 I argue the case at length because it is a notable one. 
 The city of Zanzibar is a proof of vigour in those who 
 built it. Wholly devoid of plan, a mass of narrow, 
 crooked little streets, it is nevertheless a marvellously 
 solid piece of work. The houses are fortresses, three 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 269 
 
 and four stories high, with massive beams and im- 
 penetrable walls. They seemed designed to last for ever. 
 What has overtaken the men who built them? Some 
 of the old Arabs have gone off in dudgeon to Muscat, 
 but many are still left, and still possess the dignity, 
 courtesy, and generosity of their race. When you meet 
 them, you wonder they will not put their shoulders to 
 the wheel and repair their fortunes ere it be too late. 
 Then again you reflect perhaps on the sombre law which 
 prescribes to all races their inevitable hour. The whole 
 coast of Africa, from Lamu to Zimbabwa, is full of the 
 ruins of vanished civilisations. Phoenician, Persian, 
 and Arab have come and gone there for countless cen- 
 turies; we cannot even guess who built these desolate 
 piles or by what names they once were known. 
 
 Climate may have something to do with the decay of 
 the Arabs in Zanzibar. The place is far more enervating 
 than the land of Oman from which they came — ^where 
 still they may be found, hardy cultivators and sailors, 
 as their fathers were. There they have to dig their own 
 fields and to fight not with the naked negro but with 
 the Bedouin of the desert. There some day I hope to 
 see them again. 
 
 Meantime, the state supports a school, where the 
 young Arabs sit under the instruction of an English- 
 man, a Parsee, a Jain, and an Egyptian — the last of 
 whom dispenses Arabic. The Arabs, strange to say, 
 have largely forgotten their Arabic and takien to Swaheli 
 — especially on the mainland. This language is the 
 mother-tongue of the despised negro, enriched with 
 some Arabic and Indian, words. It is mightily strange 
 that it should have replaced Arabic— but the influence 
 of slave women has had much to do with the change. 
 
270 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 Now that " education " is offered the Arab, he wishes 
 to receive his Arabic — thus multiplying the problems 
 of the island, where society, like that of so many eastern 
 communities, is made/ up of enclaves of hostile, unsym- 
 pathetic races. 
 
 One thing more let us add concerning the Arab and 
 his 'dealings with the Africans — that the Arab system 
 left the African a future. Were he the blackest of the 
 blacks, the Ethiopian who accepted Islam ' had a fair 
 chance in the world. No colour prejudice, no caste dis- 
 tinction barred his path. He might rise to any position 
 to which his talents carried him. There were black 
 poets at the court of Cordova; there was a black Uni- 
 versity at TimbuctoO. Protestantism has only risen — 
 or is only rising^slowly to this concepton. 
 
 As for the Swaheli of to-day, the enfranchised slaves 
 or half-caste slaves or Arabs, their future is obscure. 
 They do not take kindly to work, nor is there much 
 occasion for it. Burton enlarges on their " self-esteem, 
 fondness for praise, dissimulation, horror of responsi- 
 bility and regular occupation." Perhaps he is right. 
 Like most slave communities they are sterile, and they 
 seem to be dying out. The future seems to lie with 
 the Indian community, with the old inhabitants who 
 still survive, and with fresh infusions of negro blood. 
 But then the whole , future . of Zanzibar is uncertain. 
 Steamers have changed the conditions of trade and the 
 ports on the mainland are developing. Zanzibar must 
 depend on its own resources, and people must be found 
 who are willing to work them. One is tempted — and 
 there will always be the temptation — to revert to slavery. 
 Intelligent masters, humanity, reasonable compulsion — 
 might not the whole system result in happiness for the 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 271 
 
 slave and the cultured classes above him? Truly, it 
 is very possible. Sometimes, under the Arab rule, it 
 did so ; and if it would only last, this might really be the 
 system for Zanzibar. 
 
 To quit these speculations however and become 
 historical again, there is something quaint and even 
 pathetic about the relations between the Arabs and the 
 English. There was every reason why these relations 
 should be unfriendly, but they never were so. The 
 Arabs recognised and respected the power of England, 
 the great Sultans sought the alliance of the English, and 
 the English officials esteemed the Arabs. The one bar 
 between them was slavery. The Arabs knew that 
 England had renounced the system, that they were 
 pledged to put down slave-raiding. They knew also 
 that this meant either ruin or revolution for themselves, 
 and they sought by entreaties and remonstrances to put 
 off the evil day.* The Humanitarians in England cared 
 nothing about the interests of the Arabs; the officials 
 on the Spot temporised and gilded the pill, but the 
 Humanitarians were in earnest, the British fleets watched 
 the seas, and slowly, slowly the slave dhoWs disappeared. 
 A few years ago arrangements were made to emancipate 
 all the domestic slaves, and money was granted — in 
 Mombasa from British revenue — to compensate their 
 masters. This money might have been much better 
 spent in other ways ; the domestic slaves were not un- 
 happy, and in kny case were dying out. v 
 
 There is now in Zanzibar a fairly large colony of 
 Europeans. They live in comfort, compared with their 
 predecessors, of whose lives and surroundings Burton 
 
 * Sultan Said in 1842 sent an embassy with costly presents to 
 Queen Victoria, petitioning against the abolitionists. 
 
272 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 gives a grim account. Burton, it is true, was a cynic, 
 and his keen eyes lighted always on the foulest things 
 around him ; but I suppose his picture of old Zanzibar 
 in the main is faithful. " A filthy labyrinth, heaped 
 with offal, and choked with ruins." Thus he sums it 
 up, and he notes the black and green puddles in the 
 streets. There is nothing of the kind now. The whole 
 town is beautifully clean ; there is a vigorous con- 
 servancy department and a good water supply. The 
 bad water of early times was one of the causes of 
 European mortality, a mortality which seems to us 
 nowadays incredible; even the crews of ships in the 
 harbour perished by hundreds. 
 
 It is, in fact, astonishing how European life in the 
 Tropics has changed everywhere. In many ways we are 
 less careful than our forefathers; we do not dread the 
 evening chills or the night winds so much. But certain 
 precautions we take. We wear helmets, drink less, go 
 to bed earlier, and, above all, enjby good food, fresh 
 meat, fresh vegetables, and pure water. Clean sur- 
 roundings have also been established, and reliable 
 medicines sorted out. Healthy amusements have re- 
 placed dissipation ; there is a beautiful sports ground 
 at Zanzibar, a stretch of green turf by the sea, with a 
 background of tropical foliage. There are also pleasant 
 clubs, and many other features of Anglo-India. A cam- 
 paign against mosquitoes is proceeding. 
 
 To a nature like Burton's I suppose these changes 
 would, on the whole, be unwelcome. Much as he 
 grumbles at the filth, he revels in the lawless and 
 picturesque life before him. In his day the old systems, 
 though dying, were still alive; in ours they have 
 vanished. There is no one now, for instance, imbued 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 273 
 
 with the traditions and ideas of the harem; no one who 
 seriously defends Government by potentates, wholesale 
 executions, and so forth. Sometimes one finds a reno- 
 vated version of the thing upheld, but to know it as it 
 was is now impossible, or almost impossible; but some 
 traits in the picture may be recovered. It is full of 
 strange vistas, and suggests that many things we take 
 for granted in the west are not inevitable. 
 
 I took a walk out to Dunga, about half-way across 
 the island, where there is one of the many Sultan's 
 palaces. (It was a rule that every new Sultan should 
 build himself a new palace, for piety and superstition 
 forbade him to live in his father's house. The stern 
 practicality of the British Government frowns on the 
 custom.) On the way I passed the hospital for incurable 
 diseases, built by Government, and attended by ^priests 
 and nuns of the Church of Rome. The patients dis- 
 played some portentous cases of elephantiasis, leprosy, 
 and lupus; but I learned that one old woman, whose 
 face had quite disappeared, was wont to amaze the rest 
 by dancing. As usual, among the sisters were some 
 cheerful and others sad, and, again as usual, a cheerful 
 sister took me round. Everything was clean and orderly. 
 Till lately the sisters lived there with patients, but so 
 many of them died that now they go home at night. 
 Proceeding on my way, I passed through many clove 
 plantations; the trees are small and regular in appear- 
 ance, and were^beginning to flower. The cloves are the 
 unexpanded buds, which are picked and dried^ and 
 known well enough in that state to everyone everywhere. 
 
 There is a large Protestant mission in Zanzibar, with 
 a high church tradition. The church is a noble build- 
 ing, erected in the vigorous days of the movement. 
 
274 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 The European congregiation, as I saw it, numbered less 
 than twenty. ' Not far off is a fine Roman Church, in 
 the polychrome style, which occupies the site of the 
 old slave-market. 
 
 The religion of Islam does not flourish in Zanzibar; 
 not once did I see an Arab saying his prayeirs there. 
 The mosques are built in the strictest style of Arabia, 
 with no frivolity of art. What art there is in Zanzibar 
 takes the form of carved doorways of Persian design. 
 
 These are often costly and beautiful. I took away 
 myself but few souvenirs ; amongst them photos of six 
 of the most beautiful wives, of the Sultan; CaucasSians 
 with rounded features and heavy eyes. I marvel that 
 so much as a reflection of their charms should be 
 exposed for sale; but, autres temps, autres moeurs. 
 
 One thing, however, is. unchanged both in Zanzibar 
 and Pemba — the cloud of evil spirits that infests the 
 island, and the magical skill of its old inhabitants. I 
 ^ad no. chance to witness any proof of this, but will 
 relate what I heard. That not long ago the people of 
 Zanzibar were much troubled by stones dropped on 
 their roofs, not by birds, as sceptical Europeans main- 
 tained, but by the demons of the air. That a missionary 
 who slept in the palace at Checitii was vexed by the 
 apparition of an old Arab scourging a boy and a woman 
 interceding for him. That the people of Pemba do 
 make corpses stand upright in their graves, while they 
 revile them to prove if they be^eally dead.* That once 
 a year the magicians of Pemba collect all the evil spirits 
 
 * Burton also relates the same and gives a specimen of the 
 riotings : "Fellow! Dost thou remember making fierce love 
 to me at such and such a time ? Much good will thy love do me 
 now thou art the food of ugly worms." 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 275 
 
 in paper roats and float them out to sea — but they return. 
 That knowledge of spells and incantations abounds, 
 and many people perish thereby. Credat JudcBus, you 
 may say ; but Mr Stead believes in this sort of thing. 
 Sir Oliver Lodge, the theosophists, and new thought 
 leaders generally; and so do I. 
 
 German East Africa 
 
 I will not relate the story of Germany's colonial 
 ambitions; suffice it to say that at present they have 
 ended in the possession of German East Africa, a 
 stretch of territory about the size of British East Africa, 
 rather larger but less attractive. There is not the same 
 range of highlands, and there is no Nairobi. A colony 
 the country can never be; but it is already a valuable 
 dependency. Germany has put into it much money 
 and much toil, and explored its resources with her own 
 patient and industrious care; it is now beginning to 
 repay her. There are vast sisal and rubber plantations 
 on the coast, and an active trade. I would, if I could, 
 have spent much time studying German ways and ideas 
 there, but I had to content myself with a few hours in 
 Tanga and Dar-es-Salaam. 
 
 These are the two ports; Dar-es-Salaam is the capital. 
 They are both well laid-out, with avenues of trees, public 
 gardens, Bismarck Denkmals, and substantial buildings. 
 Dar-es-Salaam has two fine churches — even a Protestant 
 church, which no one who knows Germany would ex- 
 pect. The streets are clean and smart ; the hotels good 
 and reminiscential of German cooking and German 
 decoration.' The black eagle stares fiercely down on 
 you from flags and walls and pillars. 
 
276 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 English is spoken freely; the Germans are not, like 
 the Portuguese, too proud to learn it. At least their 
 pride takes a more sensible course. 
 
 The question is raised whether Germans know 
 how to manage their relations with the negroes, and 
 what those relations are. It is certain that currient 
 opinion in British East Africa holds that these rela- 
 ■ tions are harsh and strict ; that wholesale floggings and 
 executions are a usual feature of German regime; that 
 public disorder in any region^ is punished by the ex- 
 termination of the inhabitants. I refuse to accepf this 
 opinion merely because it is current, nor even because 
 the traditions of the German army do, to some extent, 
 render it probable. The truth is that all accounts of 
 national atrocities, as circulated in other countries, 
 require careful iiivestigation on the spot. Russian 
 atrocities towards the Jews, Turkish atrocities towards the 
 Armenians, Belgian atrocities oh the Congo, English 
 atrocities in the Transvaal and elsewhere- — livid and 
 circumstantial accounts of these may be read in news- 
 papers throughout the world, and yet, after all, are 
 largely the fictions of patriotic or humanitarian malevo- 
 lence. Nevertheless, I think it likely the Germans are 
 to some extent too stiff in their regulations. It is 
 certain that many negroes have left their territory for 
 ours, the useless Masai and the useful Wanyamuezi, 
 that they are short of labourers, and that Herr Dern- 
 burg, their Colonial Secretary, after a long tour in the 
 country, warned them that, in his judgment, only a 
 more lenient system of treatment would procure them 
 the supply they need. 
 
 But, if I am to speak of what I saw, I can only say 
 that I saw in one direction much evidence of an en- 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 277 
 
 lightened and liberal policy towards the negro. There 
 is no doubt that an earnest and systematic attempt 
 is made to bestow on them the benefits of education. 
 The central schools at Tanga and Dar-es-Salaam are 
 model establishments. At the former place there are 
 about five hundred boys under instruction ; education 
 being compulsory for boys in Tanga, and select boys 
 being sent in from the districts by the officials. The 
 school is divided into two parts, a primary school where 
 the three R's are taught, and a secondary school, where, 
 along with these subjects, various industries ^re carried 
 on. The staff includes five German and many native 
 teachers. The primary school costs Governhient thirty 
 thousand marks a year ; the industrial section is con- 
 nected with workshops which practically pay for it. 
 The boys are not boarded at the school, but receive 
 an allowance of eight Cents a day each, on which (with 
 some assistance from their parents) they board them- 
 selves. The school at Dar-es-Salaam is smaller, and 
 has only a primary department of one hundred and 
 thirty boys with one German master. The boys here 
 are boarded and clothed at the public expense. The 
 buildings in both cases are admirable, and admirably 
 equipped; the masters, so far as a visitor could judge, 
 fully in sympathy with their pupils and their work. It 
 is claimed that ten years have shown satisfactory results, 
 and the negroes are beginning to do useful and even 
 responsible work. 
 
 Music is taught to select pupils ; there is an admirable 
 band at Tanga, which plays Die Wacht am Rheim 
 under the auspices of the Bismarck Denkmal. There 
 is no religious, and no definitely moral instruction. 
 Germany trusts here, as in the Fatherland, to the 
 
278 IN FOREIGI^ LANDS 
 
 formula of work and music. There will be something 
 interesting in watching the future of this. The negro, 
 as some hold, comes naturally near being an Atheist; 
 will it not be interesting if he progresses upwards on 
 these theistip or atheistic lines? 
 
 Of course the cynic and the humourist may find 
 something to carp at in the programme. The little 
 niggers reciting poems about the "mildness " of the 
 German Emperor are quaint figures in the phantas- 
 magoria of time, but eve^y civilisation has its veins 
 of the spurious and unreal. Most of all the -modern 
 age in Europe; why should the modern age in Africa 
 be exempt? 
 
 Village schools and mission schools, both more or 
 less supported by Government, I did not see. 
 
 Indians exist in the country, but are not numerous or 
 flourishing. The present Governor is said to view them 
 favourably; but they complain of over-regulation. 
 
 , Portugal in Africa 
 
 Portugal is the oldest of European powers in Africa. 
 Vasco de Gama, of immortal fame, rounded the Cape 
 when Christopher Columbus crossed the Atlantic. It 
 seems a smalleir feat; yet, recalling the stormy seas of 
 that region, the dangerous currents and rocks of the 
 eastern coast, and the perplexing and inhospitable shore, 
 I wonder much that he thought the enterprise worth his 
 pains or carried it through. Nevertheless, we know 
 that he succeeded, that a few years later Portugal was 
 the ruling power throughout the east. About 1530 
 she had it parcelled out in four great dependencies, 
 India, Malacca, Ceylon, and Africa — ^wherein were 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 279 
 
 reckoned both Hormuz and Zanzibar. She had hopes, 
 it seems, in these regions, but especially in Africa, to 
 rule as Spain ruled in Anierica, to the exclusion of all 
 partners, white, black, or brown. But a brief revolu- 
 tion of the wheel dispelled the vision ; the Arabs drove 
 her from Hormuz and Mombasa, the Indians from 
 Bassein, and the Dutch from the gateways of the Day. 
 There is nothing of her left now but a few names and a 
 wilderness of territory in Africa. 
 
 This territory she has never really subdued. Want 
 of men, want of system, and perhaps want of military 
 instincts may have been the causes; the fact at any rate 
 is certain that, even a few miles from Mozambique 
 Portugal has little authority. 
 
 Mozambique stands on an island about a mile from 
 the African shore. The houses are mostly modern, well- 
 built, and well-arranged. The streets are beautifully 
 clean — here, as elsewhere, apparently, the present age 
 has taken the broom in hand. If no great prosperity 
 is visible, neither is any squalor. Old fashions linger : 
 ships are discharged into lighters, and the lighters are 
 unloaded by coolies who wade ashore with bales of 
 merchandise on their heads. 
 
 The Cathedral is a modern building; the only place 
 of interest is the fort. It was built early in the seven- 
 teenth century. The stone was all brought from 
 Portugal or from Portuguese India, since there was no 
 good building stone on the island. This was a great 
 feat of energy anrf perseverance, but indeed the Portu- 
 guese buildings have all been constructed in the same 
 spirit, as any visitor to Bassein will remember; her 
 modern buildings evince it to-day. The Mozambique 
 fort is a huge star-shaped structure, with walls thirty 
 
280 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 feet thick ; it was a masterpiece in the days when it was' 
 built, and it has now been captured. To-day^ it contains 
 a garrison and some hundreds of negro convicts. I 
 suppose it will never fight another battle, though rows 
 of stout old cannon breathe defiance from its battle- 
 ments. ' 
 
 Mozambique shares in a revival which is going on 
 throughout Africa ; its share would be larger if it were 
 not for the growth of Biera. This is the most northerly 
 port connected with the South^African railway system; 
 it is the nearest to Rhodgsia, and, with the occupation 
 of Rhodesia, has risen into wealth, if one should not 
 rathef say come into existence. It is still a straggling 
 place, with roads of native sand; but signs of growth 
 appear in every ■ direction , reclamations from the sea, 
 wharves, banks^ and hotels. Here passengers descend 
 for the Victoria Falls, a great natural curio up-country, 
 where the Zambezi tumbles over a precipice of four 
 hundred feet. Not caring much for waterfallsj and 
 feeling economical, I did not deviate to view it, but 
 contented myself with picture post cards and Lord 
 Curzon's massification of words in The Times. 
 
 Picture post cards cost threepence each at Beira. The 
 Portuguese system is to lay all their imposts on trade, 
 leaving the householder free — as far as possible. 
 Tempting as this system is, it does not seem to pay in 
 the long-run. The opposite system is to leave trade 
 free and tax the householders. Of course the idea of 
 Protection is not involved in either case. 
 
 Beira Harbour is a dangerous and unpleasant place. 
 A river flows into it, and the tide rises and falls twenty 
 feet a day, running out seven or eight miles an hour. 
 Loading from and into lighters is difficult and often 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 281 
 
 perilous work. Passengers are charged three shillings 
 to and from the ship, and with the result that the un- 
 scrupulous cheat the boatmen and the boatmen retaliate 
 on the passengers. Disagreeable scenes occur, and 
 firmness may be required. 
 
 With Beira one leaves the Tropics. Though the place 
 is very hot in summer, still, the conditions are not 
 tropical; subtropical, one might say, resembling those 
 of Egypt. Delagoa Bay is definitely in the temperate 
 zone. We reached it on a cold, wet day, and had the 
 satisfaction, for the first time, of going alongside a 
 wharf. The town is European in character; there is 
 little of it that looks like India or Africa. The business 
 part lies low down by the sea ; behind this rises a steep 
 bluff, the Brea, where Government House stands. The 
 buildings 'are all modern, and present many signs of 
 growth. The wharves are fitted with electric cranes; 
 electric trams run everywhere. You find yourself again 
 in the world of shop windows; and there are excellent 
 shops and fine public buildings. 
 
 Years ago, when arbitration between England and 
 Portugal assigned this locality to Portugal, that country 
 offered to sell it to England for ;^4,ooo,ooo. The far- 
 sighted Disraeli would have bought it; but the House 
 of Commons declined the chance. Nothing would buy 
 it to-day; and though the place has been created by 
 .English trade and lives on English trade, it belongs 
 irrevocably to Portugal. It took that power a long time 
 to wake up to her good fortune; want of sense and 
 want of honesty impeded progress and allowed valuable 
 public rights to be seized as " concessions." Things 
 seem to have changed for the better now, but the 
 Portuguese are still behind the time. They are too 
 
Missing Page 
 
Missing Page 
 
284 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 In criticising this system we must observe that, for 
 the present, it has its drawback in the greater prevalence 
 of disorder in Portuguese territory, much of which is 
 not safe for the traveller. There we may inquire 
 whether the Portuguese doctrine has not been due 
 largely to the growth, of a half-caste race. By the 
 advocates of a colour line this would be strongly 
 asserted, and I fefel there is probably much truth in 
 the view. It must not be forgotten, however, that 
 during the period in question the Latin races have been 
 declining in, Europe, without the co-operation of this 
 cause. Moreover, the future of the mixed races is 
 not by any means hopeless.' In Portuguese Africa they 
 are probably rising; in South America, a scene of 
 great interest in the drama of history, the rise is certain 
 and even rapid. It may be granted that the mixed races 
 are lamentably inefficient, but it is something to their 
 credit that they are pervaded by a broader humanity of 
 tone than the exclusive white societies. 
 
 It would be interesting to ask how far the influence 
 of the Roman Church promotes this result. I think, 
 on the whole, it tends in this direction. The English 
 settler in British East Africa generally commends it for 
 the strict subordination in which it pla,ces the negro. 
 This, however, is more apparent at the first view than 
 on reflection. Speaking broadly,, and with some great 
 reservations, the Roman Church obliterates distihctions 
 between laymen ; it has no fixed objection to coloured 
 clergy, and the coloured priest possesses his full and 
 equal share of the tremendous authority of the Church. 
 Moreover, the Church prefers coloured marriages to 
 fornication, and does not deprecate the birth of half- 
 caste children. 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 285 
 
 There are even Protestant and Teutonic observers 
 who would welcome the wholesale fusion of white and 
 negro blood. Observing the undoubted good qualities 
 of the negro — his cheerfulness and buoyancy of temper 
 — they hope to import these along with Europeari virtues 
 into a new strain ; failing this, they predict disaster for 
 the white races, or at least their disappearance from the 
 territory of the negro. For their pessimism, at any rate, 
 there is much ground. The negro is multiplying; he 
 is strengthening his hold on the ground; and he is 
 already driving tke white man out of manual occupar 
 tions. Higher education may make him a rival in other 
 fields ; it will probably make him conscious of his own 
 interests' and render him a deliberate eneniy of the white. 
 The white man, in the meantime, is almost bound to 
 deteriorate. He is overtaken by coatempt for manual 
 labour, a frame of mind which ends in inefficiency and 
 contempt for all labours, and he cultivates a habit-of harsh 
 animosity which affects all his differences of opinion. 
 The optimists in South Africa hope things will develop 
 dlong more promising lines; that the whites will avoid 
 these pitfalls ; thatj under a free system, their own 
 talents will enable them to keep the lead by fair means, 
 and the negro will remain a useful friend. Australia 
 does not believe in this programme; she holds with 
 the pessimists, and places her hopes in a system which 
 will exclude from her territories every shade of colour. 
 As I write I feel that the Australian system is the only 
 true alternative to the Portuguese. The Portuguese pro- 
 gramme is the more interesting — though it rnay be cynical 
 to say so ; the future of South Africa looks dark. 
 
 But here no doubt, as elsewhere, the unforeseen will 
 happen. It may be that the Latin — aiid Greek — races 
 
286 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 from Southern Europe will yet discover South Africa 
 and revolutionise it. In the meantime I myself bid 
 farewell to the Portuguese. It is not likely I shall visit 
 them again. If I do, perhaps I shall find Delagoa Bay 
 a fashionable watering-place. An astute Jew from the 
 Transvaal already owns the building sites on the Brea. 
 Thus millions be^et millions; what clusters of million- 
 aires shine in the South-African sky! 
 
 " Durban 
 
 The original site of Durban w^ a spit of sand 
 running into the sea, with a narrow opening and a 
 large sheltered bay behind ^t. Pertinacious industry 
 has deepened the opening, protected it with sea-walls, 
 and lined the spit of sand with wharves. The approach 
 from the sea is beautiful and impressive. Behind the 
 harbour lie steep and wooded hills, and beneath them 
 is the bilsiness quarter of the town. The outer side of 
 the spit is fitted up with an esplanade and all the 
 appurtenances of a watering-place. 
 
 Durban is, in fact, an English seaside town trans- 
 ported by a sort of miracle to Africa. As I walked 
 about it I found myself once more in Southport, the 
 scene of my childhood in Lancashire. There were the 
 same shops, the same style of goods, the same advertise- 
 ments of summer sales, and boardings with the very 
 same posters that tell the Englishman he is at home. 
 Strings of children with spades and buckets paraded the 
 streets, and refreshment-rooms extended their invita- 
 tions. There was nothing alien anywhere, except the 
 rickshaw boys and the little blackamoors selling papers. 
 I believe there were Indian and negro quarters else- 
 where, but I did not see them, 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 287 
 
 This was the first English town beyond the seas I 
 have seen, and a curious sight it was. There is no 
 such thing in the world as a French town outside 
 France or a German town outside Germany. What an 
 odd thing that there should be an English town outside 
 England ! 
 
 There is an excellent tram service in Durban ; you 
 can take a tram, ride up the hills and admire the bijou 
 villas where the people of Durban live. They are very 
 small, but most of them have beautiful gardens, and a 
 wide view over the harbour and the sea. Descending, 
 you admire the handsome buildings of West Street, and 
 you cannot fail to stop and marvel at the town hall. 
 Three hundred thousand pounds it cost; and it repre- 
 sents the money. Not, I think, in the final success of 
 the design, but in size and ambitious splendour. It would 
 satisfy the requirements of any capital in the world, and 
 certainly indicates a spirited policy in the views of the 
 Durban residents. I believe they number about thirty 
 thousand, and no town of the size has done more for 
 itself anywhere. The war, of course, gave it a life; 
 Durban is a distributing centre for the interior. 
 
 The climate is agreeable; prices rule low, and closer 
 union, as the optimists think, has secured the future. 
 The immigrant Indian is to be excluded from the 
 country; and the domiciled Indian, though he is bound 
 to stay, may, it is hoped, be kept within bounds. There 
 are a hundred thousand of him. The negro is an un- 
 solved problem of the interior. A few years ago he 
 rebelled, but the rebellion was quietly put down,* and 
 a commission was appointed to inquire how such things 
 
 * At an estimated loss, to the Colony, of ;6'soo,ooo ; to the 
 insurgents, of ten thousand lives. 
 
288 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 might be averted in future. Their report makes gloomy 
 reading; the commissioners assume sackcloth and a;shes 
 on behalf of Natal, confess the absence of a policy in 
 the past, and hope— with little confidence — one may 
 be found. 
 
 I shall not discuss the situation, because South 
 Africa is excluded from my purview. I will only 
 observe that the South-African negro is a larger and 
 stronger, a more promising or more dangerous man, 
 than the negro of British East Africa. He seems to 
 grow more vigorous At each port as we go south, be 
 this due to climate or the food^ or to unknown causes. 
 Nor is he found idling his time away. In the hold of 
 the ship, at the winch, or on the wharf, he is learning 
 what work and responsibility mean. This sort of 
 education, at any rate, proceeds; and let me add that he 
 is a cheerful labourer. Hour after hour he goes on, 
 sometimes twenty-four hours at a stretch, and when his 
 spirits flag he refreshes them with a circular dance, 
 a memory of his ancestral kraal. Indeed, nowhere in 
 South Africa has he yet forgotten his kraal, and few 
 negroes there; are who do not sometimes resist it. Em- 
 ployers view this habit with disfavour, but perhaps it 
 saves society from the creation of a town proletariate. 
 
 One trace of the native in Durban is the curiosity 
 shops. There are half a dozen of them, very interesting 
 and attractive places. It is one of the oddities of the 
 white man that, however much he despises the coloured 
 man, he never fails to appreciate and appropriate any- 
 thing good the coloured man makes. This is a lesson 
 the coloured man ought to learn from him, but rarely 
 does. Nowhere; in Durban you may see basket-work, 
 bead- work, and wire-work from the Zulu kraals freely 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 289 
 
 brought and sold at remunerative prices. Some of it is 
 very tasteful, and I succumbed to several articles myself. 
 One was the sceptre of a Zulu king, a tall staff of 
 polished wood with a mystic emblem carved upon it, 
 which I will some day ask a theosophist to explain 
 for me. 
 
 The Zulus are great magicians. Their wizards are 
 able to change an enemy into an owl, possessed indeed 
 of his own human head, but otherwise hopelessly trans- 
 formed, and his tongue split so that he can only gibber 
 with it. I had this from one whose informant had 
 witnessed it. A certain man was missing from a kraal, 
 and the whole village went to search for him. They 
 found him up a tree, looking mournfully down and 
 struggling to speak; unnerved by the spectacle, they 
 fled. As I take a special interest in stone-throwing 
 spirits, I will mention that there is one on the Umgeni 
 River, who throws very large stones at those who 
 cross it. 
 
 Mdreover, one man# whose word I trust, a man 
 famous, if I mentioned his name,, told me a tale of a 
 Zulti clairvoyant, who recovered some stolen blankets 
 for him. I have heard many tales to the same effect, 
 but never one so circumstantial as this. He was certain 
 that the diviner did not know why he was sent for, 
 that he described the place where the blankets would 
 be found, and that they were immediately found there. 
 
 Enough now of Africa, O reader! thou hast the 
 better part of what I saw, and soine part of what I 
 reflected thereotl. Yet, as we close with coniprehensive 
 glance, let us circle the Continent and see how much we 
 have left unseen. 
 Northward of British East Africa the Somali main- 
 
 T 
 
290 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 tains his freedom. Half-negro, perchanbe half-Arab, 
 like the Swaheli, yet how unlike him; he scorns the 
 yoke of east or west and flouts the advances of 
 civilisation* A herdsman of cattle, like the most part 
 of such,, he is fierce and predatory; for they err who 
 associate cows with the mild amours of Krishna or the 
 piping swains and milkmaids of the west. The Somali 
 is no such person; he traverses the country under our 
 rule, cheating where he cannot plunder and plundering 
 where he nee^ not cheat ; and retires to his own wilder- 
 ness when he thinks fit^ to breed and fight hostile 
 clansmen and crown his brows with laurel. He is a 
 Mohammedan, yet not of the brotherhood of Islam. He 
 recks not of the Mahdi of Senussi, and I doubt if he 
 has heard of the green flag. 
 
 Beyond him dwell the Abyssinians, in the Switzer- 
 land of Africa, a fertile land, a land rich in kine, and 
 rich in mineral treasures. I predict for it a day of doom. 
 Puffed up with memories of Adowa, and some un- 
 chronicled victories over the Mahdists, the chiefs of 
 Abyssinia think they will never be removed. But all 
 •Europe has its eyes on Abyssinia, and the reckless feuds 
 of those same chiefs will provide their chance, if they 
 are ready to take it, when old Menelik dies.- Like Oom 
 Paul, like A,bdul Hamid, he represents a failing order, 
 and when he dies Abyssinia will or should, by the 
 rules of probability, sweep into a newer day. 
 
 Egypt is as much Europe as Africa, for it belongs 
 to neither; I pass it by. Algiers is France; Morocco, 
 like the tortoise, is safe, at lea,st till she provokes the 
 European powers to unity. The spacious Sahara inter- 
 venes ; beyond is a new Africa, the negro under Islam. 
 There are potentialities here, but no sign of immediate 
 
A GLIMPSE OF AFRICA 291 
 
 change. I know not what ferment passes under the 
 name of the Senussi ; but his hand is not ready to 
 strike. Then comes the Congo Free State, in our days 
 too easily maligned ; the worst is over there. Here again 
 the negro meets Christianity ; we shall never see what 
 he makes of it. Of South Africa I need not nor could, 
 I speak. 
 
 Throughout all the Continent railways are pressing 
 forward with incredible speed; towns are springing 
 up wherever the white man can live. Our school 
 geographies grow obsolete as fast as they are written ; 
 no part of the world is moving with a swifter impulse. 
 One can hardly say that anything like a new type of 
 life or thought is emerging ; but perhaps the present is 
 the pioneer of that, as Mungo Park and Livingstone 
 were the pioneers of the present. Perhaps, again, those 
 ruins from Lamu to Zimbabwa prefigure the future as 
 they sum up the past, and a newer age will find but the 
 savages dancing and fighting under the African sun. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 AUSTRALIA 
 
 The beginning of Australian history, like the beginning 
 of all things mortal, lies concealed in mystery. Strabi 
 and Ptolemy write of a great Southern Land, and sucl 
 a region is shown on some mediaeval maps. Th 
 Spaniards or Portuguese may have sighted it; our firs 
 certain knowledge comes from the Dutch. Dutch ex 
 plorers landed on the north and west, and Tasman ii 
 1650 sailed round the whole country. He discovered Tas 
 mania, New Zealand, and Tonga, but he avoided th 
 coast of Australia and brought no attractive report of it 
 Indeed the districts which he saw, like those which th 
 Dutch had already seen, were unfriendly to ships ani 
 unpromising to traders ; the best parts of Australia wer 
 the last to be explored. In 1688 Dampier visited th 
 north-west, to which he afterwards returned; he toi 
 gave a bad account of the country. He was the firs 
 English explorer; in 1770 came Captain Cook. Th 
 last great names amongst the mariners are those of Bas 
 and Flinders, who completed our knowledge of th 
 Australian shores. 
 
 This is a cold recital of many heroic deeds, performe( 
 for the most part by men who were scantily rewarded 
 even by Fame, and perished miserably. Flinders was 
 young surgeon who set off with six men in a ship's boa 
 to chart the coast of South Australia, a coast as savag 
 
 292 
 
AUSTRALIA 293 
 
 and washed by a sea as stormy as any in the world. He 
 was made a prisoner by the French for many years, and 
 died at last on the day when his book was published. 
 His name is now forgotten. Even the, name of Tasman 
 is forgotten ; that of Cook alone survives. Here, at least, 
 the verdict of Fame is just; Cook was the greatest of 
 English seamen, in some ways the greatest seamen, 
 of all time. To the virtues of a captain he added the 
 acute eye of true science; the accuracy of his charts is 
 marvellous, and his accounts of savage life admirably 
 faithful. As a leader he was just and humane beyond 
 his age; it is a typical freak of history that he, one of 
 the few friends of the Polynesians, should have perished 
 by their hands at Hawaii. 
 
 The land of Australia is so large that no visitor sees 
 more than a corner of it ; I write only of the corner which 
 I saw, the south-east. It confronts the sea with glorious 
 cliffs, that please the artist better than the sailor. The 
 few openings are usually guarded by majestic heads 
 rising like bastions from the water ;* Sydney Heads form 
 the noblest portal of the noblest harbour in the world. 
 Against their rocky bases the sea thunders with restless 
 fury; there is no grander sea than the coastal waters of 
 Australia. I recall a long day watching the rollers at 
 Newcastle. There was little wind, and only a slight 
 swell off the shore ; but as that swell approached, how it 
 gathered volume, till the crest of each lifted wave with 
 a grave irresistible motion fell straight down before 
 the advancing wall of water. What a fall ! a deafening 
 crash, and the wall of water was a seething world of foam, 
 racing towards the shore, as though it would swallow up 
 
 *The shores of Western India must have looked like those of 
 Australia before the sea left the Ghats. 
 
294 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 all Australia. Yet a few moments and the water was 
 racing back and the next roller was posing itself for a 
 descent. Tennyson, who cannot have seen such a thing, 
 with prophetic insight realised its grandeur ; the " league 
 long " roller in his poems is almost the mark of the 
 Southern Seas. But Australians know and love it well 
 and surf bathing is one of their summer joys, not with- 
 out its dangers as many a tale testifies, but Australians 
 are bold swimmers, and hold many swimming records of 
 the world. 
 
 The land near the sea is a sandy waste, attractive only 
 to the botanist. Who knows not Botany Bay? But 
 how many really know its history ? • How Cook spent a 
 week; here " Mr Banks " gathered his specimens, and 
 here, a few years later, the first convicts were sent to 
 found the Commonwealth. But not here did they make 
 their habitation ; few days passed ere they discovered the 
 thing that Cook missed — Sydney Harbour. Strange, liut 
 true. Cook sailed past Sydney Harbour without noticing 
 it. So Sydney has become a city, while Botany Bay, but 
 a few miles away, is still as Cook saw it, a sheet of water 
 with untenanted shores. Most of these shores are now a 
 public domain, and will be for ever, as they are now, 
 specimens of old Australia. They are covered with 
 heathery shrubs, rich in flowers, the new and brilliant 
 flowers of the southern cross. I saw them first at Albany, 
 where I landed ip the west, and said to myself, if this 
 was once a land of exile it cannot long have been a land 
 of exile if it bears flowers like these. Not, at least, for 
 English people. And the flowers of Australia has as 
 much a placei in English hearts there as the daisies of the 
 north. Every state has its symbol flower, from the 
 Boronia of the west to the Waratah of New South Wales ; 
 
AUSTRALIA 295 
 
 I wonder the old world has not borrowed more of them. 
 They were the more striking to me, as I came from 
 Africa, a flowerless land, and all through my Australian 
 visit I found new flowers showing themselves. In 
 Melbourne there is a great botanical garden, where they 
 are marshalled in beds together ; elsewhere, on the heath 
 by the sea or inland in the plains, they are scattered by 
 Nature with her own random hand. 
 
 Of the scrub and bush of Australia much has been 
 written. Alniost everyone knows the blue gum tree, its 
 lean trunk and sparse metallic foliage; assuredly there 
 is nothing of the merry green wood in its sombre mono- 
 tonous groves. We know, too, that much of Australia is 
 clothed with it, and still more with " scrub." I saw 
 little of this, and would rather write of those brighter 
 scenes which I did visit and which are less known to the 
 world. In the south-east of the country there is a large 
 pastoral district, part of which is known as Liverpool 
 Plains. Here you may enjoy the very perfection of 
 pastoral scenery. Rolling hills, clusters of trees, pel- 
 lucid streams, and miles of nobler pastures; England 
 can show you, nothing better. I saw it in the spring, 
 for there is a spring in the far South ; a spring that makes 
 all things new, when the " faint fresh flame " of the 
 young year transforms even the blue gum trees. Mil- 
 lions of flowers — red, yellow and blue — sparkled in the 
 grass; there was nothing wanting to satisfy the farmer 
 or the poet or the philosopher. 
 
 Australia, however, has wilder scenes than these. 
 Journey up towards Queensland, voyaging over the Miall 
 Lake, and you will find yourself in the virgin forest. 
 Here the immigrant Papuan vegetation meets that of 
 Australia; the forest is subtropical. I esteem it the finest 
 
296 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 forest I have seen. The trees are all evergreen, 
 with glossy leaves that twinkle in the sun, and the 
 fbliage is of witching beauty. It is not the drowsy 
 verdure of the tropics, but a lighter and more graceful 
 drapery; there are no heavy creepers, and you can look 
 far into the heart of the forest. Ferns abound, especially 
 epiphytes on the trees; they encircle the trunks with 
 crowns of natural jewels. 
 
 The spoiler has not yet invaded these glorious retreats. 
 No trust has exploited them ; a few settlers live upon 
 them ; they are not yet ruined. Their day no doubt is 
 coming-; but, meanwhile, they have no other enemy than 
 the sturdy woodman. He indeed makes short work 
 of them, when once Jie swings his axe, and I watched 
 more than one veteran of the forest fall. I saw him 
 carried off in primeval fashion by teams of patient oxen, 
 whose sagacious work was a delight to behold. Much of 
 the timber so obtained is the best and most beautiful in 
 the world ; what will posterity do without it ? One would 
 like to see precious woods reserved for the higher pur- 
 poses of art; and one would like to see some true reserves 
 of primeval nature in every part of the world. Could 
 not Australia spare a few square miles of her forests to 
 show future ages what civilisation has destroyed? I 
 grant some fine public domain she has set apart, but not 
 exactly this, viz. a great block of untouched virgin 
 forest. If Nature As really a sacred name with 
 English people, why do they not create for the spirits 
 of the woods a sanctuary ? It is scarcely realised by us 
 yet how little virgin forest is now left in the world. 
 
 It may be asked, do I forget the state reserves in the 
 Blue Mountains ? I do not ; who that has ever seen them 
 could forget them? The Blue Mountains rise some .few 
 
AtrSTRALIA 297 
 
 miles from Sydney and are easily reached from that city. 
 Their summits form a series of plateaux, covered with 
 blue gum trees. It is not these, however, that bring 
 visitors to the Blue Mountains, but the gorges that inter- 
 sect them. These gorges are the crowning glory of 
 Australian scenery, and they compare with all that is 
 most famous in the old historic North. They are deep 
 and winding chasms in the plateau, with walls of pre- 
 cipitous rock. No element of grandeur is wanting in 
 their outlines, escarpments, cliffs and boulders confront 
 each other in profuse variety, streams of water, pools and 
 cascades relieve their gloom and fill their silence with 
 music. The vegetation displays the hand of a demi- 
 urgic artist; criticism becomes merely a search for the 
 most exacting demands, which in a moment are supplied. 
 Here rises a wall of many acres crowded with moss and 
 ferns; there it is challenged by an iron cliff without a 
 lichen on it. Sometimes the valley widens and we see 
 height upon height receding above us; sometimes it 
 narrows to a dark cleft, where slender trees, immeasur- 
 ably tall, aspire vainly to the distant skies. 
 
 The State of New South Wales has laid out walks amid 
 these scenes with great judgment, and the more remote 
 of them may be visited with unqualified pleasure. Rod- 
 riguez Pass I shall remember, along with Kashmir, as 
 one of the few perfect spots on earth. But other places, 
 even a little more accessible, are beginning to lose their 
 charm. Accessibility brings the crowd of vandals, 
 whose pleasure it is to damage and pollute scenes fike 
 these, and who must needs be defeated by precautions 
 almost as vexatious as the injuries they inflict. 
 Will "education" ever teach these people better? 
 I know not; education has not taught the vulgarian 
 
298 IN FOBEIGN LANDS 
 
 to cease scratching hisi name on conspicuous places; 
 the only person who will not do this is the gentle- 
 man — whatever a gentleman may be. Even in Rod- 
 riguez Pass I came across one foolish woman scratching 
 her name on a boulder; very tired she looked, and 
 much I wondered what miserable instinct inspired her 
 action. Perhaps the same instinct that led the souls in 
 hell to inquire if they were remembered jn the upper 
 world, the horror of oblivion, as much an infirmity of 
 ignoble as of noble minds. 
 
 Not far from these regions are the Jenolan' Caves. 
 Caves in lime-stone rocks — such things are common 
 enough, but every common thing, somewhere in the 
 world, attains a size that makes it a glory of Nature's 
 works. Such are the Jenolan Caves. Their full extent 
 is yet unknown, but you may spend a week exploring 
 them, several hours a day, without revisiting the same 
 scene. The interiors are sometimes narrow and wind- 
 ing, sometimes vaster than any created by man, and 
 merely as caverns they would be interesting. The 
 material of the rocks is strangely impressive, and the 
 ages of geologic history rise dimly on the mind. A few 
 quiet streams that glide along the floors of the caverns, 
 these are the agents ofi the change before us; how long 
 has it taken them ? ' ■ 
 
 The following isi from an Australian paper : 
 
 " A most interesting and little known geological explanation of 
 the Jenolan Caves was giveij at the opening of the " Temple of 
 Baal " Cave on Saturday. Over an old continent that once lay 
 somewhere near where Australia is to-day there grew a forest, it 
 was said, and on the fallen forest trees dripped the rain, and ab- 
 sorbed carbonic acid gas that rose from the rotting leaves. < The 
 acid water passing over rocks, especially limestone, dissolved the 
 lime out of them, and flowed off, carrying the lime with it to the 
 sea. Off the coast of that continent, in the sea where the Blue 
 
AUSTRALIA 299 
 
 Mountains are now, was a coral reef, whose coral insects ab- 
 sorbed the lime that got into the sea, and made more coral of it. 
 The bottom of the sea was sinking, and the coral always build- 
 ing up to it until for some reason they died. The mud slirne of 
 the ocean for aeons flowed over their reef, and crushed it into 
 hard rock. Then at last the bed of the sea began to rise again. 
 Here may have been a fissure along that part of the earth's crust. 
 Any way the coral reef and the land around it rose till it became 
 the high mountains we see from Sydney .to-day. Another forest 
 grew and decayed over it — and grows and decays there still. 
 More acid water dissolved out the lime from the rock that once 
 was coral, and left — the Jenolan Caves. The lime it carried to the 
 sea where the coral insects about Lord Howe Island are eating it 
 at this day." 
 
 But how long has it taken to form the great wonder 
 of the caves, the stalactites ? And how shall we write of 
 them? Descending frond the roofs, ascending from the 
 floors, through all the caves, are crowded millions of 
 stalactites, if millions be a strong word to use, where it 
 is really as feeble as " dozens." Their mere number 
 escapes observation, for the mind is fully occupied with 
 their variety, and their amazing, inexpressible beauty. 
 In every cave, in almost every chamber the type varies. 
 Sometimes we have pillars, smooth or fluted, sometimes 
 filaments descending from the roof as thin as wires or 
 many yards in circumference, and yet again long shawls 
 with graceful folds, or pavements fretted with millions 
 of tiny bristles. The imagination can suggest nothing 
 that is wanting. Sometimes the formation resembles 
 that of a tree, with a trunk springing from the soil and 
 branches running in every direction ; such formations 
 often stand in little caves of their own and look like 
 triumphs of the jeweller's art. The colours vary from 
 that of snow to rich browns and reds in the shawls, 
 which are viewed by transmitted lig^t. Electricity and 
 magnesium lamps are freely used. 
 
 These luxuries are due to the New South Wales 
 
300 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 Government which has taken over the caves, and man- 
 ages them. The management is excellent. The arrange- 
 ments are all admirable and perfect in their good taste. 
 The charges are moderate, and I have only to complain 
 that they do not supply either in print or through the 
 guides any scientific information about the caves. This, 
 of course, is not supplied because it is/'wanted. The 
 crowds of tourists who visit Jenolan, good-humoured 
 Philistines on their holidays, desire no such thing as 
 serious words from the guide. He marshals them in a 
 flock as they enter, and admonishes them not to break 
 the stalactites, or write their names upon them. Forget- 
 ting "(or perhaps remembering) that this is what they 
 would be apt to do, the tourists reprehend such practices 
 and the train proceeds. In tempting places their 
 principles are not tried, for a suspicious Government 
 encloses the party in a cage of netting. The guide, as 
 ' they proceed, points out resemblances, such as may please 
 the party, Jews being gratified with the sight of a Jew's 
 nose. Catholics with that of a Madonna. A hole is 
 indicated where a certain Ridley fell and damaged 
 himself through neglecting the guide's instructions. 
 Fifty feet he fell; " was he killed? " inquire the ladies; 
 " no," replies the guide, " 'e was a Civil Servant, they're 
 'ard to kill." (In the democracy of Australia,, Civil 
 Servants are not popular.) The male birds of the party, 
 encouraged by the guide make their own experiments in 
 similes : 
 
 That is like a piece of bapon. 
 That is like a piece of tripe. 
 
 That is like a turkey in a poulterer's shop. 
 
 The ladies less inventive, exhaust themselves in con- 
 tinual praises (like the elect spirits in Paradise). 
 
AUSTRALIA 301 
 
 Isn't it lovely? 
 How lovely 1 
 There's a lovely one I 
 
 The inanity of the crowd is a comment on Education 
 scarcely favourable. In mitigation one may urge that 
 mixed crowds of men and women are never in a serious 
 humour. Women, indeed, are never serious where 
 things beautiful or intellectual are concerned, and men 
 lay aside serious thoughts in their company. 
 
 The close resemblance of the caves to architecture 
 raises many curious thoughts, like those other resem- 
 blances, so often found between contrivances ofj nature 
 and contrivances of man. The mystery of design is 
 raised once more. For what purpose were these marvels 
 created and treasured up in the earth ? Countless mil- 
 lions of years have passed over them ; no eye- has seen 
 their beauty till yesterday,* was it for this they have 
 waited? Or is their beauty but an accident, and our 
 mortal sight of it an accident ? Then what more impor- 
 tant end, if any, do they serve, or what deeper reality 
 belongs to them ? 
 
 I know not; to be practical once more, let me say that 
 amongst all the natural wonders of the world there is 
 none that surpasses, hardly one that equals, these caves. 
 Similar caves in America and Europe can not be named 
 along with them. Other caves in Australia (and New 
 Zealand) may deserve the comparison ; I did not myself 
 visit them. 
 
 In the neighbourhood of Jenolan you may still see a 
 few wallabies, little kangaroo^, that skip full blithely 
 over the rocks. I am thus prompted to speak here of 
 
 * Nevertheless, skeleton of a " blackfellow " was found in one 
 of the caves. It was a bushranger who discovered them. 
 
302 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 the wild animals of Australia, though it is little indeed 
 I can say of them. Why should I copy out of books 
 curious details about kangaroos and wombats and the 
 duck-billed platypus? What I have chiefly to say 
 about these animals is that they are all dead and gone; 
 civilisation has killed them. The kangaroo, so edible, 
 so flayable and so tannable, could hardly expefct to live 
 among white settlers ; and. even had they spared him, 
 they were not prepared to spare the tall grass which he 
 needs for his sustenance. The duck-billed platypus 
 might have hoped something from his unique form ; but 
 his fur was too much of a temptation. In Messrs Tost 
 and Rohu's shop there are three thousand skins of his ; 
 awaiting sale. The emu struggles on in a few barren 
 districts ; you can still buy emu eggs in the shops. His 
 day is coming however. A few reserves have been for 
 the wild creatures, and in the zoos a few tame specimens 
 may survive, their native wilds know, them no more. 
 
 Cockatoos and parrots still exist — mischevious tribes 
 of graminivorae. I did not see any, nor did I see a 
 snake, though snakes are common, also cases of snake- 
 bite. I met an idiot girl who had never recovered from 
 a snake-bite, and bethought myself of Ruskin's notion 
 of the colonies, as places where people " got bitten by 
 rattlesnakes and died of fever." 
 
 The death of Australia's native fauna has been, in a 
 measure, avenged by that humble instrument of destiny, 
 the rabbit. Some years ago a settler thought he would 
 like to See a few rabbits frisking about his fields and sent 
 for some; with What results the world knows. Rabbits 
 became the chief question of Australia. Having no 
 natural enemies, no cold winter to face, and endless 
 plains of grass before them, the rabbits stepped forward 
 
AUSTRALIA 303 
 
 to enjoy those gifts of Ceres and Venus which the settlers 
 intended for themselves. They ruined millions of acres 
 of land, and even costly and careful fencing failted to 
 check them. Poison scarcely thinned their numbers, 
 and only closer settlement really gets rid of them. 
 
 One device against them, it is said, has succeeded. 
 As many rabbits as possible having been caught in a 
 certain area, the does are killed and the bucks released. 
 The sexual equilibrium o^ the community is thus dis- 
 turbed; the surviving does are harrased by the bucks, 
 and all the symptoms of race suicide present themselves. 
 Thus, perhaps, man triumphs again. As not always nor 
 everywhere; in Bombay we are openly flouted by the 
 vermin ; crows, sparrows, rats and bugs use as they will. 
 And even in the heart of Melbourne, in the University 
 Gardens, vanishing amid the bushes, I saw a rabbit. 
 
 The aborigines of Australia were the " blackfellows," 
 by which name I shall write of them, for they had no 
 name by which they called themselves. I saw little of 
 them myself, for in the settled parts of Australia they 
 are almost extinct. At Albany one wretched old man 
 was begging in the street, the last blackfellow in that 
 district; near Sydney I saw a few, chiefly half-castes, 
 in a mission at Botany Bay. But this is what I 
 have learned about the blackfellow from those who knew 
 him : 
 
 He was a very lowly savage. Something like a 
 negro, yet not a negro, nor a Melanesian, his affinities 
 are unknown, so are those of his many languages. 
 Unlike the islanders, he had no agriculture — there is 
 hardly a native plant in Australia worth cultivating 
 for food. He lived by the chase, or on casual berries of 
 the jungle} shifting his quarters according to the 
 
304 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 seasons. He had no houses; even in the cold latitudes 
 of the south he put up, nothing more than a shelter of 
 boughs and strips of bark. 
 
 Social groups were small, for food was scarce; the 
 scarcity of food and the difficulties of travel required the 
 systematic slaughter of children. Chiefs were either 
 unknown or enjoyed little power. The various tribes 
 were constantly at war, chiefly over hunting rights. 
 There were, however, many reunions, and heralds — 
 mostly women— ^were -respected. Religion, chaotic and 
 fragmentary; they had some belief in the future world 
 and some in a Supreme Being, but, for the most part, 
 were concerned with ghosts. It is asserted by one good 
 authority that some tribes in, the centre believed in re- 
 incarnation ; evidence of this, however, is heeded, for the 
 doctrine is a pre-Aryan invention of India, and does not 
 seem to be met with outside that country. 
 
 We have thus before us a people on a low level of 
 culture. I will not say of happiness, for I have no doubt 
 they were as happy as ourselves, enjoyed their feasts 
 and " corroborees,"* and battled through their days of 
 want much as we do. But some remarkable gifts they 
 had, and some of their inventions will live for ever. The 
 old ' ' black trackers ' ' are renowned in literature ; they 
 could pick up the desert trail of man or beast with a skill 
 which no other savage seems to have equalled. And the 
 blackfellow invented that most curious of weapons, 
 the boomerang. Volumes have been written on it, and 
 the cases of Australian museums exhibit countless boo- 
 merangs of every shape. Not all of them returned in 
 their flight; indeed the returning boomerang were more 
 a toy than a weapon, but the flight of a boomerang was 
 
 * Dances. 
 
AUSTRALIA 305 
 
 always puzzling, and it was a dangerous weapon in 
 attack. I have seen myself a boomerang meant to be 
 thrown at a fish leaping out of water. Whether boo- 
 merangs were known to other races has been debated 
 by savants; there is an Egyptian fowler on one of the 
 monuments who seems to be hunting ducks with a boo- 
 merang, and the German cateia, mentioned by Virgil, 
 is claimed by some as a boomerang. I know not ; ideas 
 and inventions spring up in many places and culminate 
 in one, so it was with the boomerang. I saw it thrown 
 by a blackfellow on a Melbourne football field ; it looked 
 like a tumbler pigeon circling in the air. The black- 
 fellows were also skilled in the use of spears, and by use 
 of their "throwing sticks " could hurl them with pro- 
 digious force and accuracy. 
 
 They were, moreover, humorous and musical people. 
 It was a blackfellow who refused to believe in hell, 
 " where get 'em wood make 'em that big fellow fire? " 
 And I saw one of the race, at the mission, taking a gum- 
 tree leaf, and placing it between his thumbs, blow upon 
 it, eliciting notes as sweet as those of a flute and render- 
 ing our own melodies in perfect tune. 
 
 Such then was the blackfellow, before we invaded 
 his land ; what have we done for him ? There is a picture 
 in the gallery at Medlow Bath with a sad suggestiveness 
 about it; a blackfellow lying on the cliff near Sydney, 
 watching a portent on the sea, a white-winged bark 
 sailing past his shore. He is wondering what it 
 means. This the blackfellows soon learned when the 
 strangers came to settle in Australia; and between 
 settlers and savages no lasting peace is possible. It 
 has generally happened that savages have recognised 
 in white ^ttlers a superior power, have sought to placate 
 
 V 
 
306 IN FOREIGN LANDS ' 
 
 it, and have abstained from acts of provocation till pro- 
 voked themselves. But every act of the settlers provokes 
 them. Their hunting and fishing grounds are appro- 
 priated, and they are offered the choice of starvation 
 or war. War follows. Some acts of savage cruelty 
 follow, and the settler has an excuse, if excuse he needs, 
 for crushing the savage. This, at any rate, was'the order 
 of events in Australia, where finally, in many districts, 
 the savages were shot off along with the kangaroos, or 
 exterminated by poisoned grain. The Tasmanians, in 
 particular, were ground into dust between the upper and 
 nether millstones of fate ; hear "what the Government 
 compKer, B. Smyth, says of them: 
 
 " From all that could be gathered respecting this extinct 
 race, it appears that the people were originally, when they first 
 came into contact with whites, mild, diffident, willing to be 
 friendly and rather afraid of the invaders of their territory. But 
 when the convicts began to steal their wives and daughters and 
 slaughter their warriors, when the settlers began to occupy their 
 lands, they evinced stronger feelings. They attacked the settlers 
 whenever an opportunity occurred and their energy and persis- 
 tence, if they had succeeded in ridding themselves of their enemies, 
 would have placed them high in the ranks of patriots." 
 
 The situation thus created passes human powers of 
 judgment. I heard a minister in Melbourne, a distin- 
 guished man , a good and pious man , preaching from 
 the text " Be fruitful and multiply," justify the exter- 
 mination of the blackfellows on the ground that they had 
 neglected to use and develop the country. He may 
 have been right ; perhaps only want of courage prevents 
 one from meeting him with hearty assent. But surely 
 he did not see the dreadful import of his views ! 
 
 Be it noted that white civilisation is neither better nor 
 worse than others in its fierce self-assertion ; let the ex- 
 tinguished Coreans and the slaughtered Formosans 
 
AUSTRALIA 307 
 
 testify against Japan. And there is this to the credit of 
 the white races, that they do shirk the truth; they beat 
 witness against themselves. Moreover, their responsible 
 Governments have generally, to the best of their power, 
 fought the hopeless battle of the native. Phillip's first 
 instructions to the colony were to live in amity and kind- 
 ness with the natives; " Any man who takes the life of 
 a native will be put on his trial the same as if he had 
 killed one of the garrison "; and succeeding Govern- 
 ments punished the murderer of blackfellows with 
 severity, hanging as many as seven whites together on 
 one single occasion. 
 
 There has never been any racial feeling against the 
 blackfellow. Early settlers wrote of them often with 
 great sympathy; listen to Captain Trench (1793) on the 
 charms of a dusky maiden : 
 
 " She excelled in beauty all the females I ever saw.* Her age 
 was about eighteen ; the firmness, S3rmmetry and luxuriance of 
 her bosom might have tempted painting to copy its charms. Her 
 mouth was small ; her teeth white and unbroken. Her counten- 
 ance was distinguished by a softness and sensibility unequalled 
 in the rest of her countrymen, and I was willing to believe that 
 these traits indicated the disposition of her mind." 
 
 At the present day such blacks as work, work on the 
 same pay and in the company of white labourers ; black 
 children are not excluded from any Government School. 
 
 They are so far better off than the "untouchables " 
 of India. 
 
 The remaining aborigines, quite numerous in the centre 
 of Australia, are now treated in the main sensibly and 
 kindly, and efforts are made to bring them round to 
 civilisation. Unavailing efforts! Steady work they can- 
 not endure; it breaks their spirits and ruins their health. 
 The missionaries (much condemned by scientific men), 
 * He was only a naval officer ! 
 
308 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 struggle with the problem ; it is the weakness of their 
 system, here as elsewhere, that they require too much 
 religion and produce too many pious frauds. There was, 
 however, A great scandal, during my visit, over a 
 moderate chastisement of a little black girl by a mission- 
 ary; so queer is the course of history, that the same 
 people yvho once shot the Australian without mercy are 
 now spoiling him by silly kindness.. I was once at an 
 entertainment by the children of an aborigine's school ; 
 it seemed that the work done was a spurious and decadent 
 kindergarten. 
 
 It is a relief to turn to the growth of the white colonies 
 of Australia, a subject admirably illustrated by the 
 historical records published by the New South Wales 
 Government. We have already noted that Australia got 
 a bad name from the early explorers, it was long before 
 any northern nation thought of colonisingf ^i€ xountry. 
 Some such idea was suggested to England by the loss 
 of her American' colonies, and schemes were put forward 
 for replanting the American loyalists in Australia.* 
 Some of these schemes were excellently planned, notably 
 those of Mr Matra and Sir George Young, but they 
 came to nothing ; the. Government had no views of 
 Empire. What finally set them in motion was the crowd 
 6f criminals in English prisons, a crowd numbering one 
 million in i785.t Government at last decided to thin 
 them out my depositing some of them in Australia. This 
 was in no sense a philanthropic project or one framed in 
 
 * Not generally known by this name till after 1800 ; previously 
 "New Holland." 
 
 t Australian authorities assert that more than one hundred and 
 twenty thousand criminals were previously deported to the U.S.A. 
 I have heard this denied in America, and have not explored, the 
 point. 
 
AtJSTRALIA 309 
 
 pursuit of an ideal. Bacon long before had declared it " a 
 shameful and unblessed thing to take the scum of people 
 and wicked and condemned men " to plant a colony; 
 and for all the British Government knew, he was right,* 
 but they proceeded with their scheme. It found no 
 friends ;■!■ the Gentleman's Magazine and the Monthly 
 Review pronounced it " most extravagant." Had Mr 
 Stead been alive, perhaps, he would have foiled it ; how- 
 ever, those were aristocratic days, and Government went 
 its way. Lord Sydney was Home Secretary, and the 
 officer he chose to command the enterprise was Phillips. 
 
 I pause here to reverence the name of Phillips; he 
 i^ one of the forgotten great men of England, not a 
 town or street in Australia bears his name; the city 
 he founded is called, from the negligent and incapable, 
 Sydney. But the Records show what sort of man he 
 was; a truly great organiser, farsighted, patient, humane 
 and just, he is! the one really great man connected with 
 Australian history. The hour found him out; when his 
 work was done, he retired into obscurity. One can 
 hardly understand what led him to accept the thankless 
 office to which Sydney called him; probably it was a 
 mere sense of duty. 
 
 Anyhow, there were handed over to him seven hundred 
 and seventy-five persons, sailors and convicts, men and 
 women, and a ship to be victualled and stored for the 
 voyage. Over the victiaals and stores Government showed 
 incredible meanness and apathy. They did not even pro- 
 vide arms, there were no musket balls, no paper for cart- 
 
 * Strange to say he was only partl^ right ; the example of Aus- 
 tralia's history does not vindicate the claim of philosophers to be 
 kings. 
 
 + That verbose Irishman, Edmund Burke, ignored it. 
 
310 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 ridges, no armourer's tools, no medicines, no hospital 
 diet, no supplies of such things as leather, no women's 
 clothes. Month after month Phillips continued his appli- 
 cations\ for them, showing marvellous patience and self- 
 control; at last he was forced to sail without them. 
 
 We cannot follow him on his long voyage; it lasted 
 thirty-six weeks and covered 5021 leagues. During that 
 time only twenty-five persons died, a proof of excellent 
 dispositions on the ship. A brief trial of Botany Bay led 
 Phillips to move on to Sydney, and there he founded the 
 colony. It was a long and weary task. Even amongst 
 the free men discontent was rife ; Phillips had no friends 
 or supporters. The soldiers refused to act as goalers. 
 The surgeon declared " it was a country so hateful as 
 to merit only execration and curses." The chaplain* 
 returned to England by the first ship that sailed there, 
 finding the place ' ' an awkward and unpromising' corner 
 of the Lord's Great House." But amid cowardice and 
 mutiny Phillip persevered. He wrote in his first des- 
 patches that Australia was " the most valuable acquisi- 
 tion Great Britain ever made"; and all his thoughts 
 were directed to improvements. Meantime, he lived on 
 the same food and the same rations as the convicts, and 
 during the first winter these sunk to a point at wljich 
 they barely supported life.f The convicts, who did not 
 
 * One chaplain was sent with the expedition at the last moment, 
 on the urgent request of Sir Joseph Banks. A Roman Catholic 
 Chaplain volunteered, but Government refused him permission to 
 
 go- 
 t There was a real danger Of the colony being starved to death. 
 
 In 1581 Philip II (of Spain) fitted out a colony of five hundred 
 
 men for the straits of Magellan. An English ship passing later 
 
 found sixteen of them alive. Of these only one was at hand 
 
 when the ship appeared; she took him off, but did not wait for 
 
 the other fifteen. 
 
AUSTRALIA 311 
 
 include a sipgle farmer and gardener, much less a 
 botanist, whose tools were " the worst that ever were 
 seen," were long before they raised any food for them- 
 selves. 
 
 It has only to-be added that when Phillips left the 
 days of doubt and gloom were over; free settlers were 
 arriving, and brighter views were being taken of the 
 future. But the only recognition the leader had, so far 
 as I remember, were the words, on receipt of his first 
 despatches, " His Majesty is graciously pleased to 
 approve of your conduct." Let those who are not 
 ashamed of low ideals fix their thoughts on medals and 
 ribbons, on fame, even on pensionary allowances (for 
 which last weakness there is some excuse). 
 
 Shall we pause now a little " to explore the convict 
 world of those vanished days? " The literary relics are 
 all we have left. I did, indeed, at Sydney visit " the 
 Rocks," a group of the first Sydney houses, empty and 
 vanishing, which had seen the convict days, but there 
 is really nothing left to speak of the system itself. 
 Books there are about it, yet even here we miss the 
 spiritual life of the old thieves and ruffian ; it has never 
 passed into literature. There is a glimpse of it in 
 " Oliver Twist," much melodramatised, and with that 
 we must be satisfied, Australia yields us nothing, except 
 a few hard facts. 
 
 I had the fortune to find these in a hotel, the Newgate 
 Calendar, a moralising work which relates- the trials of 
 famous criminals. It shows some dark spots in human 
 nature; if you wish to try your faith in man, the New- 
 gate Calendar will supply a test. Among the nobles of 
 England, Lord Ferress, Colonel Charteris, Lord Balti- 
 more — rwhat monsters of liist and cruelty! In the pro- 
 
312 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 fessed criminal classes, what hardened perseverence in 
 crime I One is amazed at the prevalence of seduction 
 and rape; the ill-treatment of children and apprentices, 
 and, in general, at the impunity of evil doers. Indeed, 
 the nobleman was really above the law, and. the vulgar 
 criminal easily escaped beyond it. Had there not been 
 righteous men whom nothing could quell, the civilisa- 
 tion of such an age must have perished. 
 
 The great feature of life in England then was a mar- 
 vellous hardness and toughness. In the military and 
 naval service we read tales of incredible endurance, both 
 mental and physical. Flogging was the common pun- 
 ishment; and in the servi/ce directions the wielder of the 
 " cat " was enjoined to run the lash through his fingers 
 between each stroke to remove the flesh and blood 
 from it. This single fact shows us what flogging was 
 like; yet men survived hundreds of lashes. Their food 
 was such that one fails to perceive how they ate it at all, 
 much more how they lived and flourished on it. But 
 complaint would have been useless, and hardness of 
 body had to be fortified by hardness of mind. If harsh, 
 injustice was not the rule, it was certainly; a common 
 exception to the rule, and a man of a brooding temper 
 must have perished quickly in those days. Yet I do 
 not remember even to have read of a suicide in the 
 service,* and acts of personal vengeance were very rare. 
 What saved thp situation was partly the presence of 
 some men ip authority both strong and just, and partly 
 the general spirit of fair play among the masses. We 
 must add, in other directions, the influences of relig- 
 ion and of humanitarian sentiment — at that time not 
 yet an evil. Those who spread these influences were 
 * Not even in the days of the press gang. 
 
AUSTRALIA 313 
 
 fortunately men of the same tough fibre as their 
 enemies.* 
 
 We know now what sort of men the convict ships 
 brought to Australia. There were, no doubi, other types, 
 swindlers and sneaks, as well as men scarcely criminals 
 at all, poachers for example, and many transported for 
 petty crimes, or convicted on false evidence.f 
 
 But the mass were rogues, and in judging their treat- 
 ment we must not forget this. If we remember it, that 
 treatment seems to have been, on the whole, sensible and 
 humane. It is astonishing how many good officials 
 one reads of, captains, surgeons, chaplains, and even 
 warders. Some of the governors, like Macquarie, were 
 notably indulgent to convicts. The general system 
 was to grant leave to men of good character, finding 
 them to work for free settlers. The system was some- 
 times abused, but on the whole it worked well. It seems 
 a fair inference from the record that any convict, who 
 deserved it, could, in a few years, secure his freedom, 
 independent means and a good character. Violent 
 punishment was not common ; re-convicted convicts were 
 sent to Norfolk Island. Here they had a good and 
 healthy climate, and a hard life; vice and cruelty were 
 rife ; but at least those who suffered, suffered the reward 
 of deliberate and incurable rascality. 
 
 As the few settlers increased in numbers, they objected 
 more and more to the transportation of convicts. Finally 
 
 * Reader, if ever you are in Melbourne, observe the picture 
 " Food for Powder " in the Melbourne Gallery. 
 
 t Once or twice a prisoner falsely convicted established his 
 innocence. Such a one was William Barber, whose misfortunes 
 and heroism are amongst the most moving tales I have read. If 
 any sort of men deserve statues and stained-glass windows is it 
 not such as he, who are forgotten ? 
 
314 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 in 1 85 1 the discovery of gold made the system impos- 
 sible. About eighty thousand convicts reached Australia 
 before that date ; and it is an intei-esting question what . 
 effect their presence has had on the colonial character. 
 
 One institution certainly is conferred on the country 
 — the bushranger. The early bushrangers were escaped 
 convicts. Naturally, the convicts sometimes tried to 
 escape, by sea and land,; though very rarely they suc- 
 ceeded. One party did actually make their way in a 
 boat to Timor (an astonishing feat), where, by accident, 
 they were recaptured and, without compunction, sent 
 back to servitude. Other parties struggled as far as 
 the Blue Mountains, where they perished of thirst or 
 even murdered and ate each other. A few eked out a 
 desperate living in the bush, plundering farm-houses 
 or holding up coaches. There was little romance about 
 their lives, and they were much hated by the settlers. 
 When this generation passed away, native born Aus- 
 tralians began to take to the bush, and sometimes caused 
 much public inconvenience. The story of the Kelly 
 Gang is well known, at least in Australia; it cost the 
 State of New South Wales ;^8o,ooo to catfch and destroy 
 them. 
 
 I have heard it said that the Kelly Gang owed their 
 Ipng life to the slow wits of the Australian police; that 
 a few Americans from the wild west would have shot 
 them down much sooner. Very likely this is true; but 
 things Australian have never followed the same course 
 as things American. Though Australia absorbed so 
 rflany convicts, in the Australian goldfields the law took 
 its usual course, while in such scenes in America it has 
 always been powerless. The source of this difference I 
 have never fully explored. I am told it was visible in 
 
AUSTRALIA 315 
 
 Klondyke, direptly you crossed from American to 
 British territory ; lyrich law and private shooting ceased. 
 Everybody knew that a murderer would, sooner or later, 
 be hanged; this had a sobering effect even on bullies 
 who were masters of their weapons. 
 
 The wider question remains whether Australian tone 
 has been affected by the convict element. In one way 
 obviously it has been affected; the Australians dislike 
 references to the past. You must not speak of ropes in 
 the presence of a man whose father was hanged; and 
 one colonial governor, neglecting this adage, had its 
 truth severely rubbed into him. He congratulated the 
 Australians on having lived down their birth stains, and 
 public opinion expelled him from the country. Public 
 opinion could have been wiser and more manly had it 
 accepted the compliment in the spirit m which it was 
 intended; in Australia it should be no libef to inform 
 the world that a man's grandfather was a convict. I 
 can say this because I feel that Australia really has 
 lived down its origin. No one would have predicted 
 this a hundred years ago, and it shows a great vitality 
 in the Australian people. New Zealand, their neigh- 
 bour, was colonised by the chosen few (and New Zea- 
 land does not forget this), yet I think no visitor who has 
 travelled in both countries will say anything he met 
 with recalled this difference to his mind. There are 
 differences between Australia and New Zealand, not 
 always in favour of Australia ; but the manners of good 
 society in both countries are similar, and there has never 
 appeared any decadent class of whites in Australia, 
 (such as one may find in the southern states of America). 
 
 To proceed, I leave untold the wonderful story of 
 Australian inland exploration. It may be found in any 
 
316 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 history, and yields to no story of the kind in the great 
 qualities which it records. It brought to light a dis- 
 appointing interior. The great want of Australia is 
 water; why did not Providence pour the superfluity of 
 Canada 'into the waste of Australia? 
 
 If indeed the earth was designed for man, it is won- 
 derful how little of it yields him a comfortable habita- 
 tion. A few corners and fringes of the great Continents 
 — that is all. Australia has such corners in the south- 
 east. I have spoken already of the Liverpool Plains, 
 and artesian wells have changed much of the , north-east, 
 perhaps are destined to change still more. Humanly 
 speaking, however, most of the country is dry, hot, and 
 cheerless. The south-west is chilly enough in winter, 
 and the days are as variable as those of our own British 
 Isles; but passing northwards you soon come to regions 
 with the summer temperature of Sind. Hot winds from 
 these regions blew down to Sydney occasionally, and 
 the Bombayite recognises Bombay; but the breezes 
 sweep up from the ocean, rain pours down, and the 
 demons of the sky retreat inland again. 
 
 So we are now approaching Australia of the present; 
 it is' time to speak of the cities and city, life of the country. 
 Let me not pass without a word of gratitude to the quiet 
 town of Albany; its trim little streets, churches, schools 
 and town hall. After three weeks of the Southern 
 Sea I found myself once more at ,home, though not at 
 home; everything familiar and unfamiliar; contrasts 
 arising everywhere. White laboiirers on the quay 
 working about half as hard as the niggers in Africa. 
 On the door of the post office was chalked up by some 
 optimist , " Cd-operation will abolish poverty." I 
 bought some sprays of Baronia, a new flower, a new 
 
AUSTRALIA 317 
 
 colour, a new smell, and returning to the Karoolah 
 voyaged on to Melbourne. 
 
 Melbourne is the Paris of Australia. It owes its wide 
 hancisome streets to a farsighted surveyor, who died in 
 poverty; it is a city of fine vistas. In its situation it is 
 unfortunate. Some miles of a winding river separate 
 it from the bay, and the bay is itself an unsightly piece 
 of water. The river has been dredged and broadened, but 
 is still a problem ; its scenic value is nil. The charms of 
 the city lie within its own boundaries ; and it is truly a 
 wonderful creation. In 1835 there was not a house in 
 Melbourne; it has now five hundred thousand people, 
 and its public buildings are all worthy of a great city. 
 There are two museums, one popular and one scientific. 
 Nowhere else have I seen this plan of division so well 
 carried out ; and there is much to be gained by it. The 
 popular museum has all the relics of old Melbourne, 
 many illustrations of life in England, and all those odds 
 and ends which are instructive and interesting to 
 common people, but lumber up a scientific institution. 
 The scientific museum is strong in the antiquities of 
 Australia — the furniture of the poor savages is tended 
 far more carefully than their own bodies and souls. I 
 forget in which museum I saw the statue of Ten Thou- 
 sand Years, with an inscription relating that it was 
 looted by the New South Wales Contingent at the sack 
 of Pekin. This is the only piece of downright plunder 
 I have ever seen in a British museum, though many 
 articles have doubtless been wheedled or bullied out of 
 savages. But then, is it not just as fair to pillage your 
 enemy as to kill him ? 
 
 The botanical gardens are very beautiful; there is a 
 pleasant acqtiarium, and an excellent picture gallery. 
 
318 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 The library is a noble institution, and all the shelves 
 are open to the visitor. This plan is general in Aus- 
 tralia and New Zealand; it increases the value of a 
 library manyfold and its possibility shows great progress 
 in the culture and morality of the people. Is not this 
 enough in praise of Melbourne? Melbourne people do 
 not envy Sydney, in spite of its harbour ; they are satis- 
 fied with Melbourne. They have their own country 
 resorts; I did not visit them, but went on to Sydney. 
 
 Sydney is the London of Australia. It did not spring 
 up in a night like Melbourne, but grew by a growth 
 rapid enough, but unconscious and undirected. One 
 of its chief streets still follows the zigzag of the old 
 carts, as they made their way up the hill before the 
 street existed. And all its streets are more or less 
 narrow and crooked. But they teem with a life which 
 recalls that of London, and the type of buildings favours 
 the comparison, tall, massive and irregular. The public 
 institutions are not so well housed as those of Mel- 
 bourne; their contents are perhaps in each case on a 
 leivel. The Sydney museum draws from the South Sea 
 Islands rather than from Australia. There is a botanic 
 garden and a domain or public parks, the Hyde Park 
 of Sydney, where the revolutionaries preach. But the 
 glory of the city is its situation; " What do you think 
 of our harbour? " There are hundreds of miles of this 
 harbour, sheets of water and winding creeks without 
 end, countless thousands of villas line the heights which 
 surround it, yet there are still reaches where not a house 
 can be seen, and the old fragrant bushes line the shores. 
 For use and recreation there is hardly such a sheet of 
 water in the world. And then you can easily pass from 
 Sydney to the open shore, where the long rollers wash 
 
AUSTRALIA 319 
 
 the crags, and the whole world, if they would, could 
 spend their holidays. 
 
 Great cities like Melbourne and Sydney imply great 
 industries somewhere. What are the industries of 
 Australia ? 
 
 Mining, of course, but I did not see anything of it. 
 Since 1851 ;^5oo,ooo,ooo of gold have been produced in 
 Australia; and of silver ^38,000,000. Other minerals 
 are also found; New South Wales raises yearly about 
 10,000,000 tons of coal. Iron exists in many places but 
 is yet little worked. I saw nothing personally of Aus- 
 tralian mining save indeed the alum mine near the 
 Miall Lakes. You could hardly call it a mine; it was 
 a mountain of alum, a glorious mass of rosy crags, 
 clothed with trees and ferns. Broken Hill, the great 
 silver mine, from photos seems to be a dark place of the 
 earth, a chaos of wheels and chimney stacks, shrouded 
 in poisonous fumes. 
 
 But the wool industry is the true gold mine of 
 Australia. Its history has been written by Mr Burfitt; 
 I draw a few facts from his absorbing pages. Wool 
 had always been a staple of England, and Governor 
 Phillip did actually take some sheep with his convicts 
 to Australia. These sheep all perished, and the ques- 
 tion of the sheep's future in Alistralia became a subject 
 of discussion. It was suggested that the Spanish 
 merino would flourish there, and the British Govern- 
 ment invited the opinion (among others) of Sir Joseph 
 Banks. That really great botanist and practical man, 
 himself familiar with Australia, replied : 
 
 " I have no reason to believe that the climate or soil of New 
 
 South Wales is at all better calculated for the production of fine 
 wools than that 'of other temperate climates, and am confident that 
 
320 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 the natural grass of that country is tall, coarse, seedy and very 
 different from the short and sweet mountain grass of Europe, 
 upon which sheep thrive to the best advantage. I have never 
 heard of any luxuriant pastures- of the natural growth of New 
 South Wales at all fitted for the pasturage of sheep till I read 
 
 of them of Captain Macarthur's statement I am not inclined 
 
 to advise their Lordships to recommend any special encouragement 
 to be given at present to perfect what as yet is a mere theoretical 
 specqlatioHi " 
 
 The Captain Macarthur here mentioned landed in 
 Australia as an army officer in 1790. He it was who 
 guided the first plough that broke Australian soil, and 
 he early took the step of obtaining those rams and five 
 ewes of the merino breed from South Africa. He sent 
 to England a specimen of the wool he grew, and Sir 
 Joseph Banks had seen these specimens when he wrote 
 his discouraging report. 
 
 From which we 'learn : 
 
 (i) That expert opinion is fallible, 
 (ii) That a prior reasoning is fallible. And yet 
 expert opinion and a prior reasoning are apparently all 
 we have to trust to in this world. 
 
 Be that as it may, the British Government did not 
 actually crush Macarthur, but, allowed him some land 
 (out of tnillions of unused acfes), arid the services of 
 thirty convicts — on condition of his maintaining them. 
 The next Governor, the famous and ill-famed Bligh, 
 tried to take these advantages from him, but Governor 
 Bligh was himself deported by the colonists. Arid Mac- 
 arthur, before he died, in 1834, saw Australia producing 
 over ;^2,ooo,ooo of wool a year. 
 
 In 1 910 I met in New South Wales an old man named 
 Denny, who had known Macarthur. He was the first white 
 man born in Australia, and his age was verified at ninety- " 
 eight. His step was firm, his eye bright^ his mind 9-ncl 
 
AUSTRALIA 321 
 
 memory clear. In features and character and even in 
 speech he belonged to an earlier age of Englishmen ; 
 " King Jarge," he said to me (George III.) " would ha' 
 hanged you or me if we'd stolen a sheep " (pausing and 
 with emphasis), " he had a flock o' sheep stolen from 
 action in this light, and I cannot say what happened, 
 but this is what Mr Denny believed. He had been 
 over sixty years a ship's carpenter, and had never 
 married. 
 
 In 1908 the value of the wool exported from Australia 
 was ;^2 ,200,000. I was curious to see the source of this 
 wealth, and received a kind invitation to a squatter's 
 home in New South Wales. It was a beautiful home 
 in a park-like country, with green pastures and clumps 
 of trees. The house was bright and modern, with a 
 pleasant garden. Not far away were the men's .quarters, 
 and the buildings where the sheep were shorn or (accord- 
 ing to the season) otherwise maltreated. I say mal- 
 treated, for the useful sheep, like poor Tecmessa in 
 ancient poetry, is born to misery. 
 
 His first experience after birth is to be gelded and have 
 his tail cut off ; a year later comes his first visit to the 
 shear^. This is an annual pleasure for several years, 
 till his wool falls off in quality, and he is killed and 
 eaten, or boiled down into tallow. His life is made up 
 of alarms ; he has a few quiet moments to nibble the 
 grass in, but it is never long before he finds dogs 
 barking and whips cracking at him, and he is chased 
 into a pen or a pasture somewhere else. All un- 
 intelligible to the sheep. 
 
 Now, as for the shearing, at present this is mostly 
 done by machinery ; an oil-engine sets in motion a row 
 of clippers on each side of a long shed. Each shearer 
 
 X 
 
322 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 has his own clipper, and, his own supply of sheep in a 
 pen. Diving into the .mass he seizes and drags out a 
 sheep, plants it upright on its haunches and bestrides 
 it. Then he plunges the shears into the wool, pealing 
 a long strip from the creature's back. There is a 
 regular method followed, and very soon the whole 
 fleece lies on the floor. The sheep utters never a sound 
 and scarcely struggles.* Yet he leaves the shearer 
 bleeding all over, and sometimes with great gashes 
 ploughed in him. A splash of tar is daubed on there — 
 or a few stitches applied in bad cases — and the sheep 
 is kicked down a shoot into the yard. There, if the 
 night is frosty, he stands a chance of death, for, however 
 uncomfortable the burden of his fleece may have\_been, 
 the sudclen loss of it leaves him miserably cold. Such 
 are the facts regarding the care of sheep; facts over- 
 looked by pastoral poets. Indeed the Australian shearers 
 are no " dainty rogues in porcelain." They are a 
 muscular, unwashed set of varlets who sit very loosely 
 to civilisaton. They go round, according to the season, 
 from one station to another, carrying their roll of 
 blankets and the tin can, or billy, for boiling tea, which 
 is almost the national emblem of the country. The 
 conditions of their life to-day are not so hard or degrad- 
 ing as those of the past; they are well fed, well paid, 
 and well housed. This is due to Unionism, of which 
 more hereafter ; the shearers' union js the strongest in 
 Australia. Shearers are still paid by piece-work, and 
 the best men work incredibly fast. The sheep is stripped 
 in about three minutes. It may be judged that a shearing 
 
 * How true is the scriptural expression "Like a sheep before 
 the shearers, he was dumb." I should like to see a collie dog 
 shorn ; what a barking and biting there would be. 
 
AUSTRALIA 323 
 
 shed is a lively scene. I think Homer describes one in 
 the Shield of Achilles : 
 
 "Also he sets therein a shearing shed, with two rows of 
 shearers busy on either side. Full speedily they stripped the 
 sheep, and the fleeces kept falling to the floor, and between them 
 seen boys gathering up the fleeces, bearing {hem to the sorters, and 
 a blackfellow with a brush and a bucket of tar,^ in case any of 
 the well skilled shearers should slit the throat of a sheep. And 
 silently aniid them all stood the squatter with his hands in his 
 pocket, reflecting on the price of wool and congratulating him- 
 self. All of gold was the squatter fashioned and the blackfellow 
 of copper; it was a marvellous work to look on." 
 
 Shearers have their entertainments, too, dances at 
 night, and what not; but time fails me to speak of them. 
 Neither do I speak of the horse-breeding industry, nor 
 of the wide plains of wheat. Nor do I speak of manu- 
 factures, for they are nowhere yet really important in 
 Australia, and I saw nothing of them. Let us close 
 these topics with a few figures regarding the productivity 
 of the country. (They are but specimen figures; the 
 official Year-book of Australia contains one thousand 
 two hundred pages of such.) 
 
 Pastoral Production — £ 
 
 Exports in 1908 . . . . 28,000,000 
 
 Horses — 
 
 Exports in 1908 152,000 
 
 Wheat and Flour — Bushels 
 
 Exports in 1908 ... 20,000,000 
 
 Sugar — ' Tons 
 
 Production in 1908 . . 165,000 
 
 Wine — Gallons 
 
 Production in 1908 5,515,000 
 
 Fruit — £ 
 
 Exports in 1908 iSS.^Si 
 
 The political system of Australia is modelled on that 
 
 of England to an almost comical degree. Every state 
 
 has its Governor, its House of Lords (Council), and its 
 
 House of Commons (Assembly). There were, indeed, 
 
324 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 proposals at one time to create heriditary Peers, but 
 Democracy protested. For the Lower Houses both sexes 
 enjoy the franchise, from which privilege courtesans 
 are not excluded; indeed Democracy, both in England 
 and Australia, takes a lenient view of the vocation. The 
 councils are nominated by Government in three colonies, 
 and elected on a property qualification in the rest. 
 
 Above the local bodies is the Federal Government, 
 with a senate of six members from each state and a 
 House of Representatives numbering seventy-five. It 
 is chiefly concerned with measures of national defence 
 and the regulation of the customs. 
 
 Members of the Local Parliaments are paid ;^300 a 
 year ; Federal Representatives ;^6oo. (They began with 
 ';^400, but took immediate steps' to raise their pay.) 
 They have various privileges, and very fine, comfort- 
 able buildings. Federal speeches are reported in a 
 Hansard, which costs ;^6ooo a year. The whole 
 machinery, with eleven State Houses and two Federal 
 Houses, costs Australia ^1,000,000 a year. Whatever 
 else may be said of Democracy, it is at least not an 
 economical form of Government. 
 
 The two-party system of England has been successfully 
 exported, along with the speaker's wig, and^ other 
 appurtenances of our own Commons. At one time Free 
 Trade versus Protection was the dividing line of parties ; 
 since Federation, Free Trade is dead; and at the time 
 of my visit the two parties had coalesced against/ the 
 Labourites and Socialists. For the time being the 
 coalition was successful, and the Labourites, who regard 
 success at the polls as a privilege of their order, were 
 exceedingly bitter over their defeat. Since then, how- 
 ever (191 1), Labour has in a measure,' come into its 
 
AUSTRALIA 325 
 
 own. The division between the propertied classes £^nd 
 labour coincides with that between Colonial and Federal 
 sentiment. Labour regards the local colonial bodies as 
 strongholds of property ^nd status, and desires to 
 strengthen the Federal Government. Through this 
 Government, it is held, far-reaching measures may most 
 easily be carried. 
 
 As to whether the Parliamentary systeni of Australia 
 has brought into politics men of character and ability, 
 there is only one. opinion to be heard throughout Aus- 
 tralia, in the negative. Such men have found more 
 attractive or more profitable careers elsewhere; perhaps 
 often have been repelled by the rancour of party strife 
 and its heartless waste of time. I paid myself visits to 
 various assemblies, including these Federal assemblies, 
 and received the impression that no body of publifc men 
 could possibly be found living on a low^r phase, moral 
 or intellectual, than these vulgar, noisy politicians. A 
 brief extract from a Federal debate will be found in a 
 foot-note ;* the reader may be assured that it is a fair 
 
 * Mr Hughes (shouting). — I have an anjendnient — (Continued 
 uproar.) 
 
 The Chairman. ^Order ! I must put the clause. 
 
 Mr Hughes. — I 
 
 The Chairman. — I say I must put the clause. 
 , Mr Fisher.— Cannot a member add a clause? (Deafening up- 
 roar.) 
 
 The Chairman. The clause must be put as the Committee has 
 already carried a motion that the clause be now put. 
 
 Mr Fisher — I submit (Uproar.) I say that something can 
 
 be added. (Continued uproar.) You set of bounders. (Sensa- 
 tion.) 
 
 Mr Hughes (shouting).— What is this? 
 
 Mr Storrer. — Be men ! Be men ! ' 
 
 The Chairman — Order ! Order ! The question is that the clause 
 stand part of the bill. f 
 
 The House divided on the question. 
 
326 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 sample of what went on hour after hour, day after day, 
 month after month, and was reported in column after 
 column of the papers. No wonder that in this land of 
 Democracy politicians are spoken of with contempt, 
 and the caricatures of politicians are as hideous and 
 spiteful as that of the Asino or Sirrfplicissimus. 
 
 Personal corruption, however, is not alleged against 
 them, or only in rare instances. There have been 
 scandals in connection with the sale of public lands; 
 but the influence of trusts is wanting, and " 'tis oppor- 
 tunity that makes the thief." There is, however, much 
 local bribery of constituencies ; a member is expected and 
 
 The division resulted as follows : 
 
 Majority for the clause ... ... ... ... 14 
 
 Ayes ... ... ... ... ... 31 
 
 Noes ... ... ... ... ... 17 
 
 Sir William Lyne. — Mr. Mauger has accused me of using, and 
 he repeats it, a filthy expression. It is absolutely without a word 
 of truth in it. (Opposition cheers.) He has been laughing, too, 
 at that filthy expression. Is that fair warfare, and is the House 
 going to be conducted in a proper way? If any member .accuses 
 me of using a filthy expression, which must be an exhibition 
 of a filthy mind, he will get more than he expects. (Sensation.) 
 It i^a scandalous, thing. 
 
 Mr Fisher. — He tried it once before. (Outcry.) 
 
 Sir William Lyne. — I feel that it is hard to keep within bounds 
 when a member does such a diabolical thing. (Labour cheers.) 
 
 Mr. Mauger. — I am extremely sorry if I used a word that Sir 
 William Lyne did not use. I used it under great provocation, but 
 with no intention to misrepresent. It would not be the first time 
 he has used vile language in my hearing in the House. 
 
 Mr. Hughes. — I have known him for 15 years, and I have never 
 known him to make use of that expression. 
 
 Mr. Mauger. — I accept the explanation and the apology, 
 (Laughter.) I mean, I apologise. I hope that the same provoca- 
 tion will not be given again. 
 
 Sir William Lyne said that there was another attack in the 
 explanation. He might use strong language. 
 
 Voices — You do. 
 
AUSTRALIA 327 
 
 expects to procure something for his friends, a " school 
 of arts," it may be, a common name for what is really 
 a gymkhana or social club. One is surprised to find 
 Government grants to such local amusements. 
 
 Politics and religion being the two poles of human 
 development, the one by contrast brings up the other. 
 As politics are prominent in Australia, so religion is 
 obscure. Looking at America you might say, 
 " Religiosity is incident to new countries " ; in Australia 
 you would ■ say the reverse. The great mass of 
 Australians ignore it; to many the teachings of Christ 
 are as little known as those of Mithra. This is not the 
 fault of the school system, for in almost every state the 
 school buildings are open to all religious teachers, who 
 may use them after school hpurs to teach such children 
 as care to come. But the system has no vitality, and 
 the young generation for the most part shake off the 
 burden of religion, save their pockets, and spend their 
 Sundays on the seductive beach. The churches find it 
 difficult to live. One of the queer things I have seen 
 in England was an Australian bishop preaching to a 
 struggling congregation near London, and taking a 
 collection for a clerical training college in Australia — 
 perhaps the wealthiest country in the world. The days 
 seem to have gone by when the country clergy were 
 welcome figures among the pioneers ; the advancing host 
 of labour is hostile to religion. Only one church that I 
 visited in Australia was really filled, the Scots Church 
 in Melbourne. The dullness of sermons is a convenient 
 excuse for absence ; and certainly there does not seem to 
 be much notability in the clerical ranks. 
 
 Even the Roman Church (the second largest body in 
 Australia) feels the time unfavourable, and is not making 
 
328 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 progress. Its organs are largely staffed by Irish 
 Catholics, and dwell much on " the sordid and sickening, 
 story of Protestant misrule in Ireland." The European 
 journals of their Church are non-favourable to England, 
 and less disposed to coquet with Socialism. The 
 Australian Catholics have not lost the hope of making 
 terms with labour, and organising a common campaign 
 against Protestantism. The " Red International " and 
 the " Black International " are not arrayed against each 
 other as in Europe. But the Socialists are certainly 
 stand-offish towards these overtures. 
 
 Not even freak religions flourish in Australia, though 
 their presence should be noted. The Hindu propaganda 
 is carried on by European converts. I did not meet 
 with a Hindu teacher anywhere, though I heard some 
 lectures by the Sister Avobamia. This lady, I believe, 
 is a follower of Vivekananda, and her centre is in 
 Sydney. Swedish, voluble if not eloquent, dressed in 
 a long white veil with; a swaslika on her forehead, a 
 double pentagon on her breast, and a rosary of amber 
 beads. In one address she explained the mystery of re- 
 incarnation ; the little street boy who felt himself of an 
 artist might be assured that, in a future life, his powers 
 could find a scope. (Is this the Vedanta? It seems to 
 me the voice of the West.) The Sister was arranging 
 for a circle of students, and a room with " special 
 vibrational influences for those who desired to lead the 
 high life." Noticing that my neighbour put five rupees 
 into the collection, I drew him into conversation, and 
 found him to be a Scotchman, an ex-Presbyterian, who 
 even then had the mein and accent of an elder. 
 
 I atten^ied the annual convention of the Seventh Day 
 Adventists, and aberrant body of millenarians, who 
 
AUSTRALIA 329 
 
 attach importance to observing the Sabbath on the 
 seventh day, that is to say, Saturday. They are very 
 simple and earnest people of a truly Christian type, 
 who do much harm in the mission-field by perplexing the 
 heathen and, creating dissentions where Protestant mis- 
 sions are beginning to meet with success. However, as 
 they justly say, they have the truth on their side; it 
 does not seem likely to prevail. 
 
 The chief speaker of their conversion was a man of 
 leonine, intellectual air, with a massive brow and a 
 luxuriant mane. He spoke with a convinced and con- 
 vincing manner; I expected mtich from him. " This 
 is an age of knowledge," so began his speech; and he 
 went on to base his arguments on Usher's Chronology. 
 He pointed with a stern air of challenge to the ipsissima 
 verba of the Ten Commandments, forgetting, that these 
 very Commandments enjoin, " Thou shalt have no 
 graven image"; a plain injunction which he was, 
 no doubt, willing to evade, just as the rest of the 
 Christian Church evades the law relating to the 
 Sabbath. 
 
 The most flourishing of such bodies in Australia is 
 the Spiritualists. These are nominally Christians, 
 though Christ is more a name than a reality with them. 
 They do not believe, however, in re-incarnation, but in 
 a progressive perfection of the spirit as it passes after 
 death from place to place. They seek guidance, chiefly, 
 from such liberated spirits who address them through 
 the organs of mediums. I was present at many stich 
 addresses, and listened to many mediums, men and 
 women. The tone which they — or their guides — 
 adopted was one of friendly superiority, little justified 
 by their discourses. These, without exception, were 
 
330 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 mediocre and prosy, and would not, as ordinary 
 sermons, have found these large audiences who listened 
 to them under the name of spiritualism. 
 
 The Spiritualists themselves were friendly and ^ 
 pleasant people, but could not be classed as Christians. 
 One of the marks of Christianity is its dependence on a 
 Saviour, another its rejection of gnosis, and this puts 
 them in a world apart from that of the Theosophists and 
 Spiritualists. Self-development and knowledge are the 
 watch^words of these. Their modes of spiritual ex- 
 perience are different. With Christians it is a gracfe 
 vouchsafed, with Theosophists a power attained. 
 
 What the Spiritualists have on their side, as a fact, 
 is, the intervention of super-normal powers in the 
 material world. The intervention, from my own ex- 
 perience, I accept as a fact, which here I shall only 
 state. In Melbpurne this fact is illustrated by Mr 
 Stanford's extraordinary collection of " apports." They 
 represent many years experiment with the medium 
 Bailey, and form a museum far more remarkable than 
 the great State Museums of Australia. It contains 
 objects connected with almost every religion known to 
 history, old or new, alive or dead. Cuneiform tablets, 
 palm-leaf manuscripts, relics of the Incas, and hundreds 
 of other objects take their place in it side by side; 
 Mr Stanford has quite a collection of living birds that 
 have appeared during the Bailey stances. I was greatly 
 indebted to him for his kindness in showing these objects 
 to me. I am not yet prepared to accept his own view 
 of the powers who brought them or their design, viz. 
 that these powers are departed spirits who bring these 
 things as proofs of the good faith. But I do believe 
 in Mr Stanford's good faith, and shall always regret" 
 
AUSTRALIA 331 
 
 that, owing of the absence of the medium in New Zea- 
 land, I could witness no stance with him. 
 
 As to his good faith I express no opinion : my own 
 exjierience is that professional mediums are never re- 
 liable. If they begin their career honestly, they are 
 sooner or later forced into dishonesty; and their 
 character, more than any other circumstance, makes 
 this field of research trying and unfruitful. The many 
 mediums I met in Australia impressed me badly, and I 
 feel that much social harm is done by their proceedings. 
 People ask them questions on business affairs, on the 
 fidelity of servants, and even of wives ; the mediums 
 give such answers as they think proper, and their 
 victims leave them perplexed or misguided. It is, in 
 my own view, probably true that many of these mediums 
 possess some sort of access to~ men's minds, which 
 enables them, sometimes, to give surprising answers to 
 questions. But their information is at best imperfect, 
 and their insight into the future is in no sense estab- 
 lished. Their off-hand answers, in most cases, are simply 
 pieces of dishonesty and impudence. The confidence 
 reposed in them by otherwise sensible, people is 
 astonishing, and their growing power is an evil which 
 at this present moment Australia requires attention. 
 
 r will not deny that from these Spiritualist meetings 
 I carried away some lessons, chief amongst them, my 
 own insignificance in the world. It was a usual thing 
 for the medium to address some commonplace man or 
 woman and offer him or her sympathy over vanished 
 hopes, wasted powers, and all the spiritual misfortunes 
 which we regard as the privilege of illustrious poets. 
 I, who have read these poets, supposed myself, some- 
 how, to share their privileges, and it was a useful 
 
332 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 rebuke to find that so many plain men and women 
 (assuredly not friends of the poets) shared it no more 
 than I, and, to the more discerning sages of the liberated 
 spirits, were no less interesting. 
 
 Another observation suggested by the stances was 
 the deep gloom so often concealed beneath the outward 
 man. Very, very few of those who attended them 
 seemed to come with minds at ease. Anxiety was the 
 prevailing mood,, and " don't worry " the unfailing 
 advice sent down from the skies. The question presented 
 itself whether the very occasion broujiht together dis- 
 satisfied people, or whether, beneath the laughter of the 
 age, there is more sadness hidden than we really think. 
 , I print here* a curious extract from the Australian 
 Aborigine's Advocate, where there is some evidence 
 offered for the Spiritualist view. It is unconscious evi- 
 dence; the magazine is not associated with Spiritualism. 
 The Roman Church would explain the case by spiritual 
 agency; indeed, the Roman objection to "Spiritualism" 
 as practised is rather an objection to the unlicensed, 
 unclerical medium than anything else. That liberated 
 spirits can appear to men, guide, and assist them, is 
 part of the Roman faith ; though it would ascribe the 
 phenomena of the s6ance to mischievous demons, who 
 seek to perplex and mislead those who place themselves 
 in their power. ; 
 
 Figures regarding the morals of Australia will be 
 found in the official Year-book, and, so far as morals 
 
 *The speaker is an aboriginal woman : " God spoke to me by 
 take in' my little girl away. A month after I saw a vision — a 
 very strong bright light, so strong it made my eyes sore, and I 
 saw a beautiful girl in the bright light, and she said 'Never mind, 
 mother.'" 
 
AUSTRALIA 333 
 
 can be treated by statistics, present conclusions very 
 creditable to the country. Violent crime is rare; the 
 number of murders and attempted murders throughout 
 the Commonwealth in 1906 being fifty-^ix. Convictions 
 for drunkenness show 119 per ten thousand inhabitants; 
 the consumption of alcoholic beverages is much less 
 than that in the United Kingdom. Tea is, in fact, the 
 beverage of Australia. It is drunk incessantly by every- 
 body, four, five, and six times a day ; and not much 
 clairvoyance is needed to foresee that posterity will 
 repent this indulgence. The conditions of the drink 
 traffic differ in different states, but regulations are strong 
 everywhere. Strict hours are enforced, including Sun- 
 day closing, and the mere traveller in Australia will 
 never be quite comfortable unless he is a teetotaller. 
 " Local option " provides in many districts for the total 
 extinction of the drink trafific. There is much grumbling 
 over this, and much evasion of regulations takes place; 
 drunkenness, to a certain extent, is driven from the 
 street into the home. To what extent few people could 
 really say, though violent assertions are constantly made. 
 I can only give the general expression that Australia, 
 compared with England, is really a sober country. 
 Government is quite in earnest against drink; no " hard 
 drinks " are sold on the railways, or at any Govern- 
 ment institution. I fancy that drunkenness is confined 
 to certain disreputable circles and localities; I saw very 
 little of it myself. The climate of Australia, hot and 
 dry, disinclines people to stimulants. At the same time 
 the one religious book I have seen in favour of strong 
 drink came from Australia; it was an impassioned de- 
 fence of wine as a gift of God to man, and placed the 
 invention of casks along with that of the wheel or the 
 
334 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 alphabet as one of the great forward steps taken by 
 humanity. 
 
 But many questions can be asked regarding the morals 
 of a country which cannot be answered out of statistics, 
 and more than one such question will strike the traveller. 
 He may, for. instance, hear complaints about the tone 
 of business morality, as I did in Sydney, and he may 
 answer them, as I did,, by asking whether so splendid 
 a city could have risen had probity not been the rule 
 in business. It is a good answer, yet, like all a priori 
 reasoning, inconclusive, and I haVe nothing to add to 
 it. Nor can I say what is the truth about the sexual 
 morality of Australia. This part of human life — the 
 most important — is in every country the least accessible. 
 I doubt, in fact, if any country is fully explored by 
 any save a few retired students. Now, in Australia, 
 figures show us that illegitimacy is common compared 
 with England; but they do not show us how much 
 sexual laxity really exists. I can only say that 
 Australians themselves make very unpleasant assertions 
 on this point. When I was in Melbourne an alarm was 
 raised by the Lord Chief Justice over the morality of 
 school children, and a long discussion followed, which 
 established little except a general uneasiness. It seemed 
 a strange thing to me, as I looked at the frank and 
 pleasing children of Australian schools, that this sinister 
 doubt should be hanging over people's minds. Possibly 
 the guilty conscience of older men and women led them 
 to suspect school children ; and it is always to be re- 
 membered that the older generation in a country seldom 
 know what the young are really thinking and doing. 
 
 I am inclined to believe that a great deal is and must 
 be wrong with sexual morals in Australia when I view 
 
AUSTRALIA 335 
 
 the declines in the marriage rate and the birth of 
 children. The marriage figures at present resemble 
 those of England, 7.8 marriages taking place per 
 thousand of the population, about two-thirds of the 
 bridegrooms being between twenty-five and thirty-five 
 years of age. The birth-rate (1907) is 26 per thousand, 
 that of England in the same year being 27, that of 
 Germany 3;^. These are low figures for a new country, 
 and one inquires what they mean. Spcialism replies 
 that the poverty of the masses prevents them from re- 
 producing. I see no reason to believe this is true of 
 Australia, unless by poverty is meant that comparatively 
 straitened condition of men's finances in which they 
 cannot afford both to enjoy themselves and to bring up 
 large families. The truth is that enjoyment is a craving 
 widely spread in the country, as it is elsewhere, and 
 good-humoured self-indulgence has become almost the 
 moral ideal of the age. Australians hearing this charge 
 reply that a people cannot be indolent who produce so 
 much wealth. This is true. What is charged, however, 
 is not indolence, but a habit of alternating hard work 
 with amusement, and an aversion to the sober, self- 
 denial of steady married life. When this aversion shows 
 itself, laxity in sexual relations will show itself, and 
 every one knows that a low birth-rate does not indicate 
 continence among married people. 
 
 The city coroner of Sydney, during my visit, described 
 the amount of infanticide in Sydney as " simply ap- 
 palling " ; but he quoted no figures, and perhaps' he 
 was easily appalled. 
 
 Of course, much that is said above must be qualified 
 in other ways. For example, though the Australians 
 spend money freely, they have plenty of it saved up. 
 
336 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 The deposits in Banks amount to ;^ 12 5, coo ,000, of 
 which ;<^34,ooo,ooo are in Savings Banks. One^could 
 not tell how much thrift is shown by these figures, for 
 thrift is a virtue of poor people, and the number of 
 really poor is not very large ; but they show a good deal 
 of foresight and self-control. 
 
 Public amusements proceed on a gigantic scale". ■ The 
 book-makers of Victoria are said to handle ;^3,5oo,ooo 
 of nioney a year. The crowd that witnesses the Mel- 
 bourne Cup is not exceeded in numbers — or in dressy 
 splendour — by any similar crowd in the world. Of 
 Australian cricketers and swimmers and sailors I need 
 not write; but not everybody knows that the football 
 spectators at Melbourne rival in number the largest 
 ' assemblies of England and Scotland. The Victoria 
 game, by the way, is peculiar to Victoria; a develop- 
 ment of rugby, very fast and tricky, but dangerous. 
 The players are trained to the hour, and in intervals of 
 play shampooed by professionals and stimulated with 
 oxygen. 
 
 Woman in Australia, as elsewhere in our age, is 
 becoming, as the case may be, more manly Or more 
 mannish than of yore. She dbes not yet fill the rank 
 and file of all vocations, as she does in America; such 
 persons as primary schoolmasters, male clerks, and 
 post office subordinateis still exist. But economic inde- 
 pendence is not far ahead of her, and is slowly but surely 
 arriving. The discontented, of course, are numerous; 
 overworked mothers and idle girls waiting for husbands. 
 One can almost sympathise with the feminist poet of 
 the Bulletin : 
 
 " God be sorry for women, 
 
 —If there be a God that hears 1 " 
 
AUSTRALIA 337 
 
 But this sort of writing does not much help the situa- 
 tion, and women themselves aggravate it. Their dislike 
 of domestic work cuts off the supply of servants and 
 makes the prospect of marriage, even when otherwise 
 desirable, a repellant one. Thus all the forces of the 
 age work towards Socialism. Marriage — or something 
 resembling it — will at least become more feasible in 
 proportion as the State relieves parents of the care of 
 their offspring. 
 
 The influence of women in politics, as yet, is hardly 
 felt. They obtained the franchise chiefly through a 
 manoeuvre of the Labour party, who counted on their 
 support. It is yet uncertain whether they will not 
 become the great Conservative element in the State, 
 though, at present, feminism is associated with the Re- 
 volution. During my stay in Australia, a Bill was 
 introduced in Victoria tq compel any man who seduced 
 a wohian to marry her. It was not paSsed into law. A 
 cynic may suggest that such a law would have placed 
 Australian women under a temptation too severe for 
 feminine virtue. 
 
 Of Australian education I will write elsewhere. Let 
 us say a word regarding Literature and the Arts. These 
 flowers of the mind do not greatly flourish. Australia 
 does not produce and does not read much literature. 
 Her ablest sons and daughters — like Mrs Humphrey 
 Ward— find their way to Europe, where the field is 
 wider. Gordon, her one poet, is not much of a poet, 
 though the spirit of poetry, scarcely descending, hovers 
 about his verses. Yet the muses have real friends and 
 followers, and the Bulletin constantly prints pieces 
 which only just fall short of distinction. They are not, 
 however, specially Australian ; the thoughts and feelings 
 
338 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 are those of the old world of the north. Galleries and 
 schools of art, excellent and well-arranged, represent 
 the cause of art both in Sydney and Melbourne; but 
 artists complain of public indifference when it comes to 
 buying pictures. No Australian artist has yet made 
 himself a name, save Phil May, and perhaps onfe should 
 add Norman Gale, in black and white. 
 
 It remains to speak of political life and principles, 
 which I place here at the close, apart from political 
 machinery, because they lead to a few final words on 
 the future. 
 
 The general position in Australia is like that' in 
 England. Though Australia is so new a country, she 
 has developed all those problems and social an^tagbnisms 
 which perplex the Motherland. It is true that the 
 assumptions of rank are absent,, and there is no estab- 
 lished church, yet this makes surprisingly little differ- 
 ence in the position. The conflicts of capital, rent, and 
 labour are no less acute. 
 
 The history of the land question in Australia is long 
 and complicated. So it is in every country; and it 
 seems that even to-day, if Providence upheaved a new 
 continent from the bottom of the Pacific and a new race 
 of settlers came to occupy it, all the experience of the 
 past would not enable them to avoid perpetual conflicts 
 over land or land acts which producec} effects the 
 opposite of -what their authors intended. The land of 
 Australia early passed into the possession of squatters, 
 or large holders, whose right was that defined by the 
 old lawyers as " adverse tenure fortified by prescrip- 
 tion." Succeeding Parliaments in Australia created 
 " free selectors," i.e. adveriturers who (under certain 
 circumstances) had the right to descend on these 
 
AUSTRALIA 339 
 
 squatters' properties, and to buy, at low rates, the most 
 desirable portions of them. This measure the squatters 
 defeated by collusion ; and still, in a great part of 
 settled Australia, the squatters — or their children — 
 occupy the soil. In Tasmania, notably, a few families 
 own the island. 
 
 It is now complained by the Labour party, that the 
 best land in Australia is all inaccessible, and the de- 
 velopment of the country hopeless. The visitor hears 
 interminable arguments on this subject. , I will state the 
 conclusion as I seem to see it. It is by no means true 
 that a pioneer at the present day would find his path 
 hopelessly blocked. The visitor can easily be shown, 
 even in long settled parts of the country, men who have 
 worked their way up the ladder within the last few 
 years. But it is true that pioneers have grown scarce, 
 and that the yQung generation are not willing to face 
 either the hardships of the frontier, or the delay of some 
 years, which must everywhere elapse, before the penni- 
 less man finds himself the owner of a comfortable estate. 
 This delay is inevitable. Government does indeed buy 
 up and sell, for closer settlement,* suitable estates, but 
 some capital is needed to benefit by this action. A man 
 might conceivably accumulate this capital; a sheep- 
 shearer, for instance, could save enough to start for 
 himself in three or four years. But the type of man 
 willing to fight his way thus is not common ; the pro- 
 gramme of labour is to tax large estates into the market 
 at a nominal price. The class of large owners would 
 thus be extinguished, and small owners would appro- 
 
 *The system is to assign the small holdings so created by lot. 
 This means that many fall into the hands of speculators, who 
 spend on improvements the bare stipulated sum and wait for a 
 rise. 
 
340 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 priate what they lost. The future will show whether 
 this programme is to be carried out, and whether the 
 present Australians can really provide a race of small 
 farmers. The love of town life is already strong in the 
 country; Sydney swallows up 592,000 but of the 849,000 
 of New South Wales, and Melbourne 549,060 of the 
 636,000 of Victoria. 
 
 Possibly, however, future immigrants are anticipated; 
 at present immigration is standing still. The Labour 
 party blames the propertied classes (and Government) 
 for this; there is no opening in the country, they say. 
 The classes attacked reply that labour discoutages im- 
 migration, for fear competition should bring down 
 wages. The visitor finds it hard to judge between these 
 views; but, certainly, ordinary labour in Australia is 
 not badly off. I made my own humble inquiries, and, 
 as a specimen of their results, I will relate what the 
 carter said who carted my boxes to the s.s. Wodonga 
 at Melbourne. He was a frank and grimy carter; I 
 apologised for handing him a tip, and explaining myself 
 as a philosophic traveller, asked how he was doing in 
 the world. He was doing well. His wages were ;^ioo 
 a year; he owned the house he lived in. He supported 
 not only a wife and family, but a step-mother ; he drank 
 a glass of beer at his supper, and took the family, 
 when he had a mind, to the theatre. He saved ten 
 shillings a week, and received fifteen shillings and nine- 
 pence a year interest from the Savings Bank. 
 
 Now, whether or not white labour is paid twenty- 
 six shillings a week, as asserted by Tom Mann, I 
 cannot tell ; nor how much is paid at Broken Hill. But 
 I can say that in Victoria and New South Wales wages 
 are fixed, by State Boards, at about ten shillings a day 
 
AUSTRALIA 341 
 
 (skilled labour). There is an old age pension of eight 
 shillings a week, and a good, but humble, meal can be 
 bought for fdurpence. Hours are fixed at forty-eight a 
 week. Education is free ; there is no judgment for a 
 debt under ;^20o. 
 
 With all this the tone of the Labour party is as bitter 
 against Society as anywhere in the world. This, perhaps, 
 is a vestige of the past, for, be it always remembered, 
 labour has suffered much. And, be it also remembered, 
 where Unionism has never appeared, it suffers still. 
 The bank clerk is not a " labourer"; he is not pro- 
 tected in Australia, and his. hours and pay and pros- 
 pects are the worst in the country. The shopman and 
 shopgirl are badly paid, but at least in Victoria their 
 hours £ire rigidly fixed; 6 p.m. every day (except Satur- 
 day, 12 P.M.) is the closing time. I am not one that 
 grudges labour its victory, nor do I think the present 
 conditions at all too favourable, but it is disappointing 
 to find that social harmony is not in the least restored. 
 The masters of the present day seem to take the situa- 
 tion well ; they do not jibe at labour, but some of them 
 have grown despondent. I met one of the race of 
 squatters, a very genial, pleasant man, to whom I 
 owe a day in Sydney Harbour, whose office displayed 
 two wall maps, one of Fiji, one of Argentine- 
 He was selling his property in Australia, and de- 
 liberating to which of these lands he should betake 
 himself. 
 
 Long and ferocious strikes are common. The coal 
 strike at Newcastle, in progress during my visit, lasted 
 many months. It has almost ruined the coal trade of 
 ]>Jewcastle, which has passed to the Japanese. As in 
 all mining strikes, the causes were too obscure for an 
 
342 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 outsider to grasp them, but it was generally agreed 
 that there were actually more colliers in Newcastle than 
 the mines could support.* One may ask why the 
 industry — a profitable one — did not develop; but the 
 suspicion presents itself that the situation was not one 
 to encourage capital. The Labour party demand that 
 mines should be made a State department, and worked 
 with public capital. 
 
 It will not do to proceed here to a general discussion 
 of Socialism. Not all the Labour party of Australia is 
 Socialist, but all verge on Socialism, and the Socialist 
 propaganda is vigorous and incessant. Regarding its 
 final victory nothing can be predicted, neither whether 
 it will take place, nor how long it will last, nor how 
 many of its promises it will make good. Obviously, as 
 men have prospered under every conceivable organisa- 
 tion, so they may prosper under Socialism; nor is this 
 pqssibility weakened by any priori arguments based on 
 laws of human nature which Socialism seems to infringe. 
 In human , affairs it is always the unforeseen that 
 happens. If I myself write in no friendly spirit of the 
 movement, it is partly through a prejudice against all 
 political movements, and partly because there is about 
 Socialists so much surly ingratitude to the past, and so 
 much self-righteousness; one can see them treading in 
 the same path as other oppressors while loudly pro- 
 claiming they are no such persons. I will illustrate this 
 by a few lines from a pompous Socialist magazine 
 called the Sunrise, published by Senator Findley in 
 
 * I spent some days in Newcastle, and witnessed the procession ■ 
 in celebration of the enactment of an Eight Hour day. I did not 
 see ahything like the squalor of an English mining town ; the 
 crowd was well-dressed and good-humoured. 
 
AUSTRALIA 343 
 
 Melbourne, and a book, the " Rising Tide," by 
 H. I. Jenson, D.Sc, Sydney. 
 
 " The Labour party has thrown wide to the breezes a banner 
 on which is emblazoned, Love; its mottoes are taken from the 
 Book of Human kinship, and its lofty ideals, like a pillar of 
 cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night, lead ever onward and 
 upward to the promised land, the army of the new crusade, sworn 
 to exterminate injustice, caste, and privilege, and pledged to win 
 for every human being born into the world the fullest develop- 
 ment in all that is healthy and honourable, pure and sweet, 
 merciful and just, good and true." 
 
 One might suppose, then, that the Labour party 
 would have some sympathy for the aborigines; but the 
 only reference I have met in their writings to these 
 victims of white Australia is a complacent observation 
 that the country is fortunate in " having-so inferior a 
 race of aboriginals that it must die out completely." 
 Now I do not say that it was wrong to slaughter the 
 Tasmanians, but the same principles that make it right 
 justify anything that Capital ever did to Labour; and 
 the Labour party is building on the same foundations as 
 those they reprehend in their enemies. It may be said 
 that the Tasmanians being now dead and gone, it is 
 no use digging them up again ; but everyone knows 
 that, if they, came to life again, the Labour party would 
 be the first to shoot them down. In his spirit the 
 Labour party . confronts the whole coloured world. A 
 fierce contempt for colour is one of its leading passions. 
 Again , I do not discuss whether they are right or wrong 
 in this. But if honesty is going to be one of their merits, 
 let them take their stand on the right of the strong arm, 
 and cease to talk about " the Gospel of Humanity." 
 It appears that Democracy can use hollow words as 
 much as kings and priests, for competition is to be 
 the basis of the new society as much as of the old. 
 
344 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 Not all Labour is yet military in Australia, a few 
 Labourites still have hopes that International Peace will 
 somehow save them from an army and navy. But their 
 numbers are few. It is generally believed that, whatever 
 compacts the Eu^^opean democracies might form, Asia 
 would stand outside them. And all Australia is aware 
 how close Queensland is to Asia; every eye is fixed on 
 the progress of Japan in Korea, and the invasion of the 
 South Pacific by Hindus and Chinese. Whether by 
 warlike or peaceful penetration, these waves of popular 
 movement seem destined to wash over Australia, and 
 once that begins, Australia becomes,' like South Africa, a 
 scene of racial conflict. Anticipating that day, Australia 
 is already arming. 
 
 At present (save for the central aborigines) colour is 
 excluded from the land. I did myself meet, far in the 
 interior, one or two Indian pedlars, who were greatly 
 amazed at hearing a white man speak Hindustani. One 
 of them I asked how he liked Australia; he paused in 
 thought awhile, and answered, "Sir, the white men 
 here are different from the white men in India. They 
 are not men of the same standing. They think it would 
 make no difference to England if she lost India." I 
 ;^hould/have liked to question him further, but the topic 
 was embarrassing in the prfesence of Australians,, and 
 I left it alone. No absolute law forbids the entrance 
 of a coloured man into the country; but a dictation test 
 is prescribed, and a coloured man (if he presented him- 
 self) would be asked to write a passage in Icelandic. 
 I am not sure whether a Maori from New Zealand would 
 be allowed to land; the Kanakas, once kidnapped for 
 service in Queensland, have now, in accordance with 
 the new policy, been ejected: A few Chinese linger in 
 
AUSTRALIA 345 
 
 Sydney, doing business, like Chinese, as washermen. 
 The Japanese hardly exist; though once in Melbourne, 
 on the steps of the Roman Cathedral, a youiig voice 
 said to me, " Say, Mister, can I go in here? " and 
 turning round I beheld a little Jap in knickerbockers, 
 whose vernacular was English. 
 
 The future of this policy is uncertain. Can the white 
 man really live by the sweat of his brow in Queensland ? 
 The same question is asked in British East Africa, and 
 the hot parts of the United States are alleged as examples 
 showing that he can. The doctors have promised to 
 extirpate malaria:,' and with that the white man's health, 
 it is said, is assured. Time will show ; it has hot shown 
 yet. A few generations are not much in the history of 
 a nation, though none of us will live to see the experi- 
 ment through. It is artificially fostered just now, and 
 large bounties are paid by the State on sugar raised by 
 white labour. A few miles away, much cheaper sugar 
 is raised by coloured labour in Fiji ; but Australia 
 is a rich country and can at present afford to 
 exclude it. 
 
 The objection to colour in Australia (as in New Zea- 
 land) has none of the personal intolerance that it has in 
 America. One of the Labour papers relates with satis- 
 faction how two American sailors (during the famous 
 visit of the fleet) threw out of a Sydney tram-car a Jap 
 whom they found sitting next a white woman. It would 
 not have occurred to an Australian to do this, partly, 
 I suppose, because coloured people are really uncommon 
 in the country. And I noted that the Indian pedlars, 
 whom I have mentioned, were allowed to share in the 
 ballot for land — and one of them obtained a holding. 
 But the feeling is that the white people of the country 
 
346 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 might be swamped by an Asiatic invasion; that Asiatic 
 standards of living would ruin white labour, and that 
 coloured immigrants would not understand, or be fit 
 for, the political institutions of the country. Now, a 
 mere philosopher might like to try an experiment 
 here. He might like to infuse a certain number of 
 Japanese into the country, and let them work and play 
 along with the Australians, vote with them, and marry 
 with them. It is by no means certain that evil would 
 result. But ievil might result — I do not say even the 
 disappearance of the white race, or the appearance of a 
 race of decadent mongrels, but the formation within the 
 country of enclaves of hostile races, and perennial social 
 war. White Australia is not unreasonable in refusing 
 to chance such a result. 
 
 We have now viewed briefly Australia and Australian 
 history up to date. With what general impressions do 
 they leave us? I think, in the first place, with a strong 
 impression of the genuinely British character of the 
 country. The ring of the voice is British — at least it 
 recalls Southern England, and everything speaks to 
 the Englishman of England. There is not a trace, for 
 instance, of America. The newspapers follow British 
 models; the shops and shop windows, the houses, all 
 are English. With all the stir of Australia there is 
 still, in places, something of the old-fashioned calm of 
 England. Away from the big wool industries, in the 
 New South Wales forests, life moves on at the same 
 pace of an English village. There are some things 
 wanting; more acquaintance with the country would 
 perhaps lead one more to miss the English artistocracy ; 
 the tourist scarcely knows whether they are there or 
 not. He will, however, find nothing strange, he will 
 
AUSTRALIA 347 
 
 always be as much at home as it is possible for a 
 stranger to be. 
 
 This tone of life is, in the main, accompanied by a 
 warm feeling towards the old country. I was slow to 
 believe this when I landed in Australia, but before I left 
 I had changed my views. Criticism of England, of 
 course, there is;* but there is no desire for separation 
 from her. The Colonial Governors may or may not 
 continue to exist; Australians smile at them a little, but 
 even the Labour party does not much impugn them. 
 They are the only visible sign of the far distant Mother- 
 land, and people are not in a hurry either to end or 
 mend them. It is certain, at present, that real national 
 trouble in England would find Australia loyal, even 
 when she might escape by hoisting her own flag. 
 Australia, of course, feels now — more than twenty years 
 ago — that perils of her own may arise, and she is not 
 able to stand alone. She has looked more than once 
 wistfully towards America, but America has not re- 
 sponded. The truth is, that, to Americans, Australia is 
 an insignificant place, and they do Jiot much value her 
 friendship or assistance. England, on the other hand, 
 probably overrates the present strength of the country, 
 and gives her credit for an unaccomplished future. 
 
 Should that future take shape, Australians will prob- 
 ably become not only a larger but a more altered 
 people. At present the visitor does somewhat miss 
 ideas in her. The contrast here with America is im- 
 mense; the material life of both countries is perhaps 
 equally vigorous, but in America the air is full of ideas 
 and hopes and visions. In Australia the tone of Social- 
 
 *The leading and most characteristic paper of Australia, the 
 Bulletin, is contemptuously hostile towards England. 
 
348 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 ism is too narrowly polemical to enrich human life in 
 
 this way, and religion is more on stereotyped lines. 
 
 There is, relatively, a larger mass bf people with whom 
 
 the work or pleasure of the day is everything. Possibly 
 
 this means there is also more sobriety and balance in 
 
 Australian judgments, but this advantage will not for 
 
 ever survive the selfish controversies of politics. 
 
 One does not wish to leave so noble a country with 
 
 mere doubts and apprehensions. It cannot yet be true 
 
 that English people have lost their power to find 
 
 harmony among themselves; perhaps authority, which 
 
 Labour has now attained, may endue her representatives 
 
 with correct judgment, and Australia, as her motto 
 
 directs her, may advance. Canada, at present, occupies 
 
 the thoughts of the old country as a field for expansion ; 
 
 Australia is not yet fully known or valued. Europe 
 
 has scarcely heard of her* — indeed, another chapter in 
 
 her history may be opened if this is changed. And, in 
 
 any case, it. cannot be thought that four millions of 
 
 people are all that the land needs or promises to support. 
 
 Sooner or later its destiny will be revealed. 
 
 * Some five hundred German settlers arrived when I was there ; 
 but ,this was an exceptional occurrence. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 NEW ZEALAND 
 
 New Zealand is a mountainous land, a Caledonian of 
 the Southern Cross. There is one great plain in the 
 southern island, the Canterbury Plain, where one for- 
 gets the mountains; but even there, except in the 
 broadest part, they show themselves glimmering on the 
 horizon. They rise in both islands to great heights. The 
 southern alps, the back-bone of the southern island, 
 possess peaks little lower than those of Europe; in the 
 northern island five or six thousand feet is the limit. 
 In most places, the coast falls abruptly to the sea, and 
 the towns find it difficult to gain a footing on the land. 
 You see the houses rising above each other in terraces, 
 while at the water's edge man subverts nature by blasting 
 and levelling the shore, and driving back the deep. 
 
 The scenery is full of impetuous changes and con- 
 trasts. The Canterbury Plains are pastoral lands 
 smiling with pastoral riches, treeless, but well watered 
 and closely cultivated. Pleasant farms may be found 
 elsewhere throughout the islands, but most of the 
 country measured in acres is still a wilderness, not all of 
 it a picturesque wilderness. Many of the mountains 
 are dry rolling hills, devoid of trees and almost 
 devoid of pasture, useless and unpleasing. If these 
 were all New Zealand had to show she would be no 
 land for tourists. ' 
 
 349 
 
350 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 But in the very heart of these dry, unattractive moun- 
 tains we alight suddenly on some of the mystic scenes 
 of the world, on the region of geyser and hot springs. 
 There are several groups of them. The largest is at 
 Whakareyvarewa, it is the most visited and belongs to 
 Government. There is a pleasant little town near, with 
 a spa (for all hot springs either are or are supposed to be 
 medicinal). On the edge of the springs is an excellent 
 hotel, and all arrangements, under the watchful eye of 
 Government, are admirable. You will be detected in 
 a moment if you try to break the silicate formations, 
 or scribble your name on them. But the geysers are 
 so much mixed up with seats arid shelters and books and 
 notice-boards and railings, and watch-towers for. detec- 
 tives, and places of residence, that their- charm is 
 impaired. The best that can be said is: that Whakare- 
 warewa, being comfortable and accessible, satisfies the 
 crowd and keeps them away from other places. 
 
 Of'these other places I recommend, first, Waiotapu, 
 which, not being sensational, is little visited and not all 
 spoilt. Half of it belongs to Government and half to 
 a private owner (for in this socialistic land one occasion- 
 ally finds some exasperating forms of private ownership). 
 I shall enlist my pen in the service of Waiotapu. You 
 reach it by coast from Rotorua, not improbably in a very 
 bad humour. Coaching in New Zealand is not the 
 pleasure that the tourist circulars depict, it is simply a 
 form of suffering that present condition^ in the islands 
 necessitate. The cloud of dust is such that often you 
 cannot see the horses from the box seat, and if you 
 have a following wind, the dust pursues you the whole 
 day. At the close of such a day a place like Waiotapu 
 seems to contain little to reward you. There is noth- 
 
NEW ZEALAND 351 
 
 ing visible but a few white and yellow patches, look- 
 ing something like the refuse of a chemical works. 
 Grumbling- at your foolishness you set off to explore 
 them. 
 
 You soon find that the contours of the ground are 
 not so simple as you thought, that little ravines wind 
 through it, with brawling streams and cascades, repro- 
 ducing in miniature all the heroic scenery of the 
 Rockies. The ti-tree, a sort of heathery shrub, clothes 
 the banks, and were these all the features of the scene, 
 time would not be wasted in explaining it. But such 
 scenes are not uncommon in any land; what you have 
 come here for is the " thermal wonders." So let us 
 catalogue and describe them. 
 
 The simplest of them are the hot springs or pools. 
 These vary in size from a diameter of a few feet to 
 lakes that you can scarcely throw a stone across. The 
 smaller pools are perhaps the most poetic. The colour 
 of the water is some shade of blue, stefely or cerulean ; 
 if you draw a glass of it, you will find it clear and limpid ;" 
 but in its nature will it show always the same mar- 
 vellous, soul-satisfying blue. Peering closely into it, 
 you discern the rocky sides vanishing in the deeps; but 
 bottom there is none, no line or plummet has ever 
 found one. Sometimes the water is fiercely boiling, 
 sometimes as still as a mirrof ; one silent little stream 
 trickles away to prove that life is stirring within it. 
 The margin is of hard rock, you may approach as closely 
 as you will, but put not the tip of your finger in that 
 smiling pool ! The rock varies in colour, according to 
 the mineral predominating in the water; purple, yellow, 
 blue and even black formations are found. All round 
 the pools vegetation flourishes with redoubled vigour ; the 
 
352 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 vapours seem to form a natural hot-house, and ferns 
 and mosses crowd down to within an inch or two of 
 the boiling water. 
 
 Not all of the wonders are beautiful. By the side 
 of the pools therd are holes of boiling mud, strange 
 spectacles, as weird as Malebolge of the port. These 
 holes are sometimes quite l?irge, and the mud in them 
 boils with a dull regular motion, like porridge in a 
 cauldron, bubbles open and bursts, and splashes of mud 
 rise heavily in the air and sink heavily back. Even 
 here the variety of nature shows itself; in one hole the' 
 falling mud forms the outlines of flowers, in another 
 the sound resembles the croaking of frogs ; almost every 
 hole has some feature of its own. 
 
 From the boiling pools and boiling holes, you may 
 turn to the terraces where the mineral water, flowing 
 down, has gradually left behind coloured formations on 
 the soil. As you approach these closely you find the 
 delicacy of hue and texture marveltous, most beautiful, 
 perhaps, are the sulphur formations, whether here or in 
 the sulphur caves. The sulphur caves are hollow where 
 sulphur vapours form crystals on the walls and roof. 
 The best is a little cave where you have to creep in 
 cautiously on hands and feet — a warm corner of the 
 earth's surface. Every inch of it' is decorated with 
 sulphur crystals ; true Alladin's cave, or at least not 
 less beautiful or wondrous. There are no geysers at 
 Waiotapu ; or, to be accurate, there is one, but it needs 
 a dose of soap to display itself. In unspoiled c-harmj 
 however, this is now first among the centres of the 
 district. 
 
 To see geysers your best plan , is to visit Wairaki. 
 You will find here, as at Waiotapu, a stream flowing 
 
NEW ZEALAND 353 
 
 through a ravine with springs of geysers, and mud holes 
 along the batiks. The region is private property and 
 belongs to a hotel company, but has not been much dis- 
 figured yet. The vegetation is most beautiful, and the 
 open-air harmony of stream and ferns and shrubs and 
 geysers, transports the mind to ecstasy. The mouths 
 of the geysers are usually surrounded by little piles of 
 rocks, which sometimes form natural grottoes, with 
 openings in the roof through which the water spouts 
 into the air. They arte deeply incrusted with mineral 
 deposits, sometimes pearly white, sometimes glowing 
 red or yellow. Every geyser has its own period and 
 manner of eruption. Some go off quite suddenly; there 
 is a splash of water in the air, and all is over. Some 
 continue playing a minute or two. There is generally 
 a rise in the water's level just before the eruption. 
 
 For a scientific discussion of geysers, please see the 
 " Times Encyclopaedia," which claims to make every- 
 thing perspicuous to the meanest intellect. It appears 
 that geysers are due to some relation between the boil- 
 ing point of water and pressure; that, given a column of 
 hot water, if you decrease the pressure at the surface, 
 the steam from the superheated depths flies up into the 
 air. So much, I believe, is settled, more by token; if 
 a geyser is unwilling to go off, and you put shreds of 
 soap into its mouth, you compel it to play. The soap- 
 suds relieve the pressure on the column of water. But 
 there are many things about geysers which still puzzle 
 savants; the periodicity of some, .and the irregularity 
 of others, and in general, the effect of ■ the various 
 passages and caverns by which they are connected. The 
 guides, by empiric procedure, can often play tricks with 
 the geysers; by stopping certain holes they can cause 
 
354 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 eruptions and so forth. But we do not know /enough to 
 enable us to preserve their marvels. Every geyser tends 
 to wear itself out. The orifice becomes too large, or 
 something happens, and the geyser turns into a mere 
 pool. Variations of the barometer affect them, and 
 sometimes for long periods they are unaccountably 
 sullen. When I was at WhakarewareWa there was little 
 visible but steam. 
 
 The great glory of the geyser world was Waimangu, 
 a giant geyser near Rotorua which rose to a height of 
 1500 feet. Its period was uncertain, but prernontory 
 grumblings heralded a manifestation, and visitors 
 camped on the edge of its water to await it."^ Once upon 
 a time a stone flew out of the watery column and, cracking 
 as it reached the colder air, slew three spectators with 
 its fragments. Truly, this was something to travel for ; 
 but Waimangu is silent now, and nothing is left but 
 the crater. 
 
 I will not say this is void of interest. Indeed, there 
 is probably no place on earth where a certain chapter of 
 the earth's history may be better studied. Nor any- 
 where will you find a more inspired guide than Mr Bob 
 Ingle. A g£u-dener by caste, self-taught in volcanic 
 lore, Mr Ingle has so identified himself with volcanoes 
 that he s6ems to feel our solid globe is nothing but one 
 vast theatre of steam and fire. Trudging off, staff in 
 hand, at the head of his tourists, Mr Ingle descends 
 into his caverns and lays bare the secrets of the abyss. 
 He traces the vaults that convey the steam, and points 
 out the intersections; the deposits withal of minerals 
 that steam transports. He points out the runlets of 
 hot water and their algae, and the metals they steal 
 from the stream. We see before our eyes nature at 
 
NEW ZEALAND 355 
 
 her mysterious alchemy, se^iarating and refining the 
 elements, and laying them up in store for man. Upon 
 any ertcouragement from the tourists, he expands into 
 ampler visions, and unfolds the'' lines of a whole cos- 
 mology. I know not if in all these matters he is as safe 
 a guide as in the defiles of Waimangu's Water. He 
 may be not; but never have I felt the poetry of science 
 as I felt it in these days we spent together. And it 
 was something, too, to have realised once more that 
 water,- under the influence of heat, is the great motive 
 power of this terrestrial globe. Not only the rain and 
 the rivers, but the steam of volcanic agencies exampli- 
 fies this truth. Indeed, volcanoes themselves are per- 
 haps mere effects of steam, steam that in the very early 
 ages of the world was somehow imprispned in her crust. 
 Waimangu is no more. The pink and white terraces 
 are no more. Once, like the smaller terraces of Waio- 
 tapu, but larger far, they were miracles of beauty that 
 drew all the southern world to them, and some day would 
 have drawn the north. But years ago the volcanic 
 demons stole from destiny our love of triumph, and rent 
 the side of Tarawera with a mighty chasm, whence a 
 tide of lava and s'hoy/ers of silica went forth to ruin 
 nature and man. The whole region was buried many 
 feet deep "n these showers, which in their early 
 days are hostile to all forms of life. The silica", vapor- 
 ised by the steam, hardens as it grows cold, and settles 
 on the land in a harsh unfertile deposit. Time mellows 
 and fertilises it, and presently it is clothed with grass 
 
 and crops, but " Nature restores her ravages, but 
 
 not all." The pink terraces lie deep under a wilderness 
 of sand and mud, and partly under a huge boiling lake 
 A small steamboat plies on the lake, and visitors make 
 
356 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 a tour, such as Danti beheld in visions, but, never in his 
 waking hours. New Zealand, one may suppose, has 
 yet to witness volcanic eruptions on the grand scale. 
 To remind her whereof,, she has not only the desolation 
 of Waimangu, but the smoking cone of Ruapchu afar. 
 It is a volcano of the classic type, with a white cap of 
 snow and a cloud of steam" sotting lazily from its summit. 
 But perhaps, after all, the foreseen will not occur. The 
 volcanic age of the world's history is alrjiost gone, like 
 the age of forests and the age of savages. 
 
 As New Zealand has some of the best volcanoes, so 
 she has some of the best forests in the world. The 
 settlers are fast clearing them off, and in many places 
 have banished them altogether. Not always with bad 
 results; the climate of the southern island in the forest 
 days Was too wet and damp. But much of the northern 
 island is too hot and dry; more trees are wanted 
 there. 
 
 Just, however, as the traveller begins to feel this, 
 behold, the trees advance in such a dense and vast array 
 that the whole island seems to be one uninhabited forest. 
 This, at least, was my experience when I journeyed from 
 Waiotapu to Ruatahuna. It was a sultry day, and the 
 road one of the dustiest of New Zealand's, roads, the 
 country flat and treeless. It seemed impossible to believe 
 we were anywhere near a forest. Yet slowly the outlines 
 of l^lls appeared beyond the plain, and as evening, 
 closed, and we entered their defiles, we were already iti 
 the forest at Te Whait. I knew of a surety I was back 
 in old New Zealand. 
 
 It was even so. This corner of the northern island is 
 — or was then — the last unbroken Maori reserve; the 
 last unviolated virgin forest. There was one Govern- 
 
NEW ZEALAND 357 
 
 ment road through it, and that road (like some other 
 New Zealand roads) stopped short at nowhere. Beyond 
 its terminus there was nothing, not even a track. As to 
 means of getting through, the tourist office had no 
 information ; they even said they would be glad if I 
 would send them some. So I made my " bundobast " 
 as follows. I hired a half-caste Maori guide, and three 
 ponies, and bade him make such arrangement as he 
 thought proper for the journey. The arrangements he 
 made were chaotic and comfortless, as, I suppose, the 
 arrangements of such people usually are; unmethodical, 
 dirty, and wasteful. Indian camp-life is scientific and 
 comfortable ; African camp-life the same, though less so ; 
 the system of the American backwoods I have never seen. 
 I suspect it was often like that of my Maori guide. The 
 presence or absence of coolies makes a lot of difference 
 in these matters ; when you have to do everything your- 
 self, pack and unpack, unsaddle and picket the horses, 
 light the fire, fetch water, cook and wash, up, you are 
 apt to grow careless of details. The washing up, for 
 instance, you consider as a matter which may be omitted. 
 This was my guide's view. For food we resolved to 
 rely on the Maoris; he did not tell me, though he must 
 have known, that the Maories had nothing but potatoes. 
 However, as regards the Maories, I anticipate; and with 
 respect to the journey, I will only add that it was made, 
 and had to be made on horseback. This corner of New 
 Zealand is the ohly part of the world where I have yet 
 found it quite impossible to walk. There being no 
 roads, you have to follow the beds of the streams. 
 
 Walking here would be out of the question. In dry 
 weather the water is seldom more than a few feet deep ; 
 but rain may always come on and you and your horse 
 
358 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 will have to swim.* In any case under any circum- 
 stances, the horse has an arduous time of it. The river- 
 beds are strewn with boulders, and the horse progresses 
 with standing leaps, asHhe devil is said to have passed 
 through Athlone. At other times, a short cut over a 
 ridge is deemed expedient, and the horse has to climb 
 like a cat on the tiles of a roof. The performance of 
 my pony continually amazed me. I believe he could 
 have swarmed up a rope if it had been necessary, and 
 the aplomb with which he shirked precipices was truly 
 beautiful. 
 
 It was my horse's business to carry me ; it was mine, 
 in the first place to admire the scenery. I have never 
 seen a more complete and glorious forest. What avails 
 it I should tell you the names of the trees ! They were 
 not uhlike the forest trees of Europe, less cumbered 
 with undergrowth, and less mantled with creepers than 
 the jungles of tfie Tropics. Most clearly I remember the 
 tawhai, a tree with somewhat the habit of the oak; vast 
 knotted arms, heavy with moss and lichens, a true seh- 
 sation of the forest. High up on the giant ranges of 
 the Huirau, there trees abound and flourish. Well do 
 I remember our descent from Huirau to the lake. We 
 rode down the bed of a stream, following a deep and 
 gloomy ravine. The ground below was miry and 
 stony, the trees enormous, and the aspect of nature 
 had something transcendent and overwhelming. Some- 
 thing of a very early incarnation must have awakened 
 within me; I felt an impotence, almost a fear, that the 
 mere world of nature cannot now inspire in man. 
 True, I knew well enough a few settlers with fire and 
 
 * New Zealand is not yet a country of bridges, and countless 
 lives have been lost in crossing rivers. 
 
NEW ZEALAND , 359 
 
 axe could sweep away that forest in a few years ; but 
 its day was not yet come. Can we wonder that the old 
 Maori seers beheld troops of spirits crossing the Huirau 
 and vanishing in the skies? It is hard to realise what 
 the world was like when it was covered with forests 
 like this ; but an impression of such an age steals across 
 the mind after a few days in their lonely wastes. 
 
 New Zealand is not a land of flowers, like Australia — 
 perhaps it was too wet — but it is pre-eminently a land 
 of ferns. Especially of tree ferns, which give the woods 
 a character of their own, and of deep luxuriant bracken. 
 The new bracken was growing when I was there ; it was 
 already six feet high, and the plains were often covered 
 with it. This bracken was a great pattern of warfare 
 in old days; the vanquished Maori retired into the 
 bracken, and what was the use of looking for him then. 
 The roots of certain kinds of bracken furnished him with 
 food; and the young tip of the frond, just uncurling, 
 was the source of his chief inspiration in art.* There 
 are a few flowering trees, one especially with rich, red 
 blossoms that glows here and there in the depths of 
 the verdure. 
 
 From end to end of New Zealand there are not only 
 many streams but many lakes. They lie embowered in 
 lofty mountains, with winding arms and creeks where 
 every effect of such stenery can be witnessed in per- 
 fection. Whakaremoana in the north, Manapuri in the 
 south, Te Dran and Lake Ada I saw, and I saw them in 
 every mood. Smooth and blue as the poetic waters of 
 Italy; dashed into billows by sudden winds; smiling in 
 the sunlight; concealed in clouds and rain. 
 
 * Though some believe that he borrowed this inspiration from 
 an older race. 
 
360 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 I can dream them over again ; I cannot reproduce 
 them, by any art of speech. But something must be said 
 of the Milford Sound top. Milford Sound is one of 
 many sounds on the south-west coast of New Zealand. 
 They are like the fiords of Norway, but grander and 
 more varied. Their rocky walls rise some thousands 
 of feet towards the skies, forests cling to them here and 
 there, their summits are crowned with glaciers, and 
 cateracts thunder down their faces. Milford Sound is 
 the only one accessible by land. The New Zealand 
 Government has made a path there, and divided the 
 journey into three stages. Huts are provided at each 
 stage, and at Milford Sound an old Scotch settler, 
 Mr Sutherland, receives visitors - in his house. The 
 trip is strongly recommended by the Tourists Depart- 
 ment, and during the summer many visitors make 
 it. 
 
 Certainly they add something to their experiences, and 
 something more than the Tourist Department holds out 
 to them. In the first place, they learn what it is like to 
 be rained on for six days together, for, in Milford Sound 
 during the summer, it is almost always rainy ; 300 inches 
 in the year means a good many wet days. In the next 
 place they make the acquaintance of a small fly yclept 
 the " sandfly." This creature was produced, no doubt, 
 by Vishwamitra, in order to show that he could invent 
 something which, while differing from the mosquito in 
 every particular, should yet be more detestable. It is 
 noiseless, whereas the mosquito buzzes; its bite never 
 fails to be perceived ; it retires at night and is most active 
 in the sun ; it leaves you alone while you are walking, 
 and settles on you when you stand still. It is withal 
 sluggish in its movements, and can easily be picked off 
 
NEW ZEALAND 361 
 
 your flesh and killed. Some of these points may seem 
 to be in its favour, but against them all must be set its 
 horrid, indescribable pertinacity. Wherever, whenever 
 you pause for a moment on the Milford Track your eyes, 
 your ears, and your nose are infested by sandflies. It 
 soon ceases to be a consolation that you can kill them ; 
 you cannot ignore them ; the only remedy is a thick veil. 
 But, then, what is scenery seen thfough a veil? Now 
 the scenery in itself passes all description. The route 
 lies through one long valley, sublime at every turn, 
 with massive rocks, woods, streams, and eternal snows. 
 You review all the charm of the Tropics and the higher 
 alps,* and you end with the lonely grandeurs of Milford 
 Sound. 
 
 The flies and the rain, however, between them spoil 
 things, and your best plan is, perhaps, not to take the 
 scenery too seriously, but to make friends with your 
 fellow-travellers and enjoy the humours of the trip. These 
 are sure not to be wanting. Many of the visitors come 
 badly provided with clothes, and while their garments 
 are drying in the evenings they look very unfashionable. 
 But talents of some kind will be found among them and 
 there is plenty of good conversation, serious and frivol- 
 ous, as you prefer. Among the types present you will 
 probably find New Zealanders taking a holiday, and 
 professional globe-trotters. It is notable \yhat a large 
 and growing community these latter form in our age, 
 and how many of them are unmarried women. As a 
 rule they are tedious companions. Their minds lack 
 depth, like the minds of almost all who have never in 
 their lives been serious students of anything. They 
 never dream of studying history ; their views of present- 
 * There are now Alpine flowers along some parts of the route. 
 
362 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 day life, expressed as a rule with much assurance and 
 self-satisfaction, are shallow and stupid. 
 
 So much for New Zealand's scenery; a few words 
 now as to her climate^ It contains specimens of many 
 climates, all truly temperate, for they are none of them 
 extreme. The climate of Auckland is something like 
 thatof4^aples, that of Invercargill like that of the south- 
 west of Scotland — perhaps milder. This, at least, is 
 what I thought, judging by the impressions of a summer 
 visit. It is disputed whether all parts of the islands are 
 equally healthy, and I certainly felt the children of 
 Auckland looked a little like the white children of 
 Bombay. But school records of games are satisfactory, 
 and, on the whole, any adverse conclusions would be 
 premature. Though New Zealand is not so dry as some 
 parts of the world, its climate is, on the whole, not 
 surpassed anywhere. " On the whole," because many 
 countries have glorious climates for two or three months 
 in the year, while the rest is misery. Moreover New 
 Zealand offers changes of climate within easy reach, and 
 there is plenty of land to wander over. 
 
 But the scenery of New Zealand, to my mind, is 
 altogether second in interest to its people, the Maoris. 
 The world has heard of them, and, having heard of 
 them, thinks it has heard enough of them. It has no 
 time to do justice to this great sea of men. But who- 
 ever sees things in the true proportions will always think 
 of New Zealand as the home of the Maori, and the 
 scene of a tragic act in the sombre drama of human 
 history. 
 
 The Maoris in New Zealand, like ourselves, were in- 
 vaders. They belonged to the Polynesians of the South 
 Pacific, and at some time in the past they reached New 
 
NEW ZEALAND 363 
 
 Zealand in long, seafaring canoes. Genealogies fix the 
 date of one invasion in the fourteenth century, and this 
 is the single fact of their history known to us. The 
 place of their origin they call Hawaiti — a name occur- 
 ring all over the Pacific. They are the only race of 
 men who have ever migrated from the tropic to the 
 temperate regions of the earth. 
 
 In colour they are brown, and in feature so various 
 that it is difficult to fix a type. Sometimes Mongolian, 
 sometimes Caucasian features seem to show themselves. 
 To-day, much mixture of European blood has unsettled 
 all conclusions, but I think Ciaucasian features must 
 always have been the rule. There is nothing special to 
 remark about their stature. In strength and endurance 
 they equalled any race known to history. During the 
 Maori wars a band of prisoners were stationed in a hulk 
 some three miles from the shore. One stormy night 
 they all dropped from a port-hole into the sea, swam 
 ashore, and vanished. Their chief, who was too old to 
 swim, they supported on the passage, several perishing 
 in this act of service. 
 
 They were never very numerous. They dwelt mostly 
 near the shore, though some tribes were scattered in 
 small clearings through the forest. In any case their 
 materia! surroundings were very humble; no race that 
 has left a mark on ^history ever lived on so low a plane 
 in respect of food. New Zealand possessed no fruit, no 
 cereal, and on edible animal of any consequence., Some 
 of the settlers brought sweet potatoes and taro plants, 
 but these natives of the Tropics would not thrive every- 
 where in New Zealand. On the coast they had fish; 
 inland the chief resource was fern root. After much 
 pounding, washing, and straining, this > hard esculent 
 
564 m FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 was fit for the stomach, and when it was available, at 
 least, the Maori did not starve. But he had always to 
 work hard and long to, fill his belly. In certain seasons 
 he trapped birds and rats, and he had a plan of preser- 
 ving these in melted fat. Whatever else was eatable, he 
 ate. The list included all kinds of worms and grubs, 
 indeed certain kinds of wofms (like the hind quarters of 
 dogs) was reserved as delicacies for the chiefs. In 
 times of scarcity extreme measures were needed, and the 
 Maori did not scruple to lick the excrements of birds 
 off the leaves of bushes. Given materials,, hgwever, he 
 knew how to cook. He dug- a hole and fitted it with 
 smooth pebbles, and lit a fire on them ; when they were 
 red hot, he brushed away the fire, threw water on the 
 stones, and set his meal in the steam, covered with a 
 mat. His dishes were juicy and well-flavoured, and I 
 can say from experience that civilisation knows no better 
 way of cooking potatoes. 
 
 The clothes of the old Maoris were called by the 
 Europeans " mats," from their stiff texture and square 
 shape. They were flung loosely about the body, and 
 seem to us but chilly coverings. However, they left 
 ventilation free, and perjiaps on this point we might 
 learn something from the savage. The material was 
 "flax," the fibres of a sedge that grows in the New 
 Zealand marshes. After careful preparation it was 
 woven in a strong white fabric, very beautiful and 
 regular. This was ornamented, sometimes covered with 
 feathers; in some cases mats were made of dog-skins. 
 Such robes were the prized possessions of chiefs, and 
 as specimens of human dress, would bear comparison 
 with the state robes of a mandarin. 
 
 Maori art, in general, reaches thp highest level of 
 
NEW ZEALAND 365 
 
 savage art, that is to say, it is not inferior to the decora- 
 tive art of any age. It is chiefly in wood-carving that 
 their skill is shown, and especially in the stem-pieces of 
 their canoes. These are covered with spirals and scrolls 
 of open work, perfect both in conception and finish. 
 We stand amazed to learn that these works were exe- 
 cuted in hard wood with stone tools, and yet the very 
 difficulties of the task may have had something to do 
 with its finished execution. 
 
 " Oui, I'oeuvre sort plus belle 
 D'une forme au travail Rebelle, 
 Vers, marbre, onyx, email." 
 
 Besides stem-pieces, boxes and other utensils were exe- 
 cuted. Moreover, every Maori had his face tattooed with 
 spiral lines, and became himself a work of aft, and that 
 by no means a contemptible one. There was, however, 
 little naturalism in their art, and they attained to no 
 power of dealing with the human face^ Images of' 
 ancestors, heroes, and gods are common on their build- 
 ings, yet they equal not in life-like power the scratch- 
 ings of the bushmen, and they lack the dignity of which 
 the true grotesque is capable. 
 
 The Maori had a -rich and varied music, and a host of 
 poetic legends beyond numbering. Their religion was 
 Shamanism ; in their old villages were little huts where 
 the spirits came to hold converse with the mediums. 
 Of the future life their ideas were vague; they held no 
 belief in re-incarnation. But fragments of verse show 
 that they had asked themselves the ancient riddle : 
 
 " It is well with thee,. O moon, 
 Thou returnest from death, spreading thy light on the little 
 
 waves. I 
 
 Men say, ' Behold, the moon re-appears, 
 But the dead of this world return no more.' " 
 
366 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 Amid their wild myths we meet with philosophic mus- 
 ings which have, perhaps, a history more ancient than 
 the hills. Here is a fragment of cosmogony: 
 
 "Night had conceived the seed of night; the heart, the 
 
 foundation ,of night, 
 Had stood forth self-existing even in the gloom. 
 The shadows screen the faintest gleam of light. 
 The procreating power, the ecstasy of life first known, 
 And joy of issuing forth from silence into sound, 
 The progeny of the great extending^ filled the expanse of 
 
 Heaven." 
 
 The progeny here spoken of were the primordial beings 
 who preceded man. These beings were bi-sexual, yet 
 woman strictly so-called was not known till Tane sought 
 for and found her, the whare o aitua, or " source of 
 trouble," for the Maori, like the Babylonian, had an 
 idea that evil came into the world through woman. 
 
 Perhaps his most ' interesting conception was that 
 of the mana belonging to all animate and inanimate 
 things. It was a latent power, a secret energy that 
 evoked them to somewhat play their part in the world. 
 It took the place of destiny as other races have con- 
 ceived it. A club might be supposed to have its atten- 
 dant mana, which made it prosperous in war. The fall 
 of their race, they really say, is due to the loss of their 
 mana. 
 
 The spiritual life of the Maori was dominated by the 
 conception of taj>u, a conception prevailing throughout 
 the Southern Seas, but developed in New Zealand 
 more than elsewhere. Tapu was a prohibition restrict- 
 ing the use of certain things to privileged persons, 
 usually priests or chiefs. These same persons had the 
 right to impose or extend such restrictions, their posses- 
 
 * Presumably "extending" means ** process of extending." 
 
NEW ZEALAND , 367 
 
 sing a power which according to circumstances, might 
 be very useful or very dangerous to society. Violations 
 of tapu were punished by the powers of the spirit world, 
 and it is a fact that when the white man first entered 
 New Zealand, the violations of tap u were seen to waste 
 away and die. Awkward and even ludicrous restric- 
 tions arose in connection with tapu, and under some 
 circumstances it became impossible for a man to feed 
 himself. Among quaint relics of this age are the feed- 
 ing bowls (like those we use for infants), which were 
 used for chiefs under tapu, beautifully made and carved. 
 Connected with tapu was the sentiment which regarded 
 the cooking of food, or the place where cooking was 
 done, as unclean. This curious and unparalleled feeling 
 was very strong; even to mention people's names in 
 connection with cooking food wras an insult, still more 
 so to bring cooked food near their person, especially 
 near their head. 
 
 Their social system was closely knit under an aris- 
 tocracy of. birth. The chiefs were mfen of power, first 
 in war and peace, and closely associated with mystic 
 knowledge. Was it not an old chief who showed 
 Bishop Selwyn a miracle? He cast into the air a 
 withered leaf and it fell on the ground a. green leaf. 
 " Match that,"- said he, "and I will be your concert." 
 The Bishop. declared, somewhat -evasively, that neither 
 his Master nor he dealt in signs, and the old chief 
 perished in his heathenism. No doubt he was a chief of 
 the old school, and ruled his people firmly. Once such 
 a chief and some of his people were hiding from a party 
 of enemies, when a baby along with one of the women 
 began to cry. Turning to her he' said briefly, " I am 
 that child "; she understood at once and strangled it. 
 
368 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 War was the constant occupation of the Maori, for 
 no two tribes lived at peace together. War began 
 chiefly over hunting rights, but often from the use 
 of insulting language by one tribe to another. The 
 Maoris, like most lavages, were sensitive alike to ridi- 
 cule and curses, and some of the most furious wars 
 arose over " the point of honour." Their weapons 
 were clubs; no mizzle was known. The clubs were of 
 wood, stone, or whalebone, short flat weapons, with 
 which the warrior sought to cleave his enemies' skull 
 laterally, then, with a turn of his wrist, to lift the top of 
 it off. These clubs were of most beautiful outline, mar- 
 vellously smooth and true; they represented the work 
 of years. There were eight of them for sale in Auck- 
 ' land when I was there, the price asked was ;^iooo. 
 
 The most precious material used for clubs was the 
 greenstone or jade found in the northern island. It 
 was also used for images of the god Tiki, and was 
 regarded with a veneration resembling that which the 
 Chinese regard the same stone. It is one of the hardest 
 of stones, and that a people with no metals whatever 
 could work it, is one of the wonders of human history. 
 Year after year, one must suppose, some man would 
 work away at a club, rising in the night to rub it a 
 little, when he felt sleepless, and patiently waiting till 
 it assumed its perfect form. Are savages or civilised 
 men the more patient? Their patience takes different 
 forms, and it is hard to say. 
 
 The Maoris were a martial people; they showed es- 
 pecially good judgment of defensible positions, and 
 still in fortification. Their pas or fortified villages 
 were strong and crafty retreats. All are now vanished, 
 but one or two copies of them may be seen, and notable 
 
NEW ZEALAND 369 
 
 is that Mar Tewhaiti which a modern chief built to 
 please himself. It stands on a square mound ; a double 
 palisade, with great figures of heroic ancestors defying 
 the foe. The double palisade was to tempt assailants, 
 through certain attractive holes, into places where their 
 heads might conveniently be clubbed. 
 
 The fate of prisoners, and often of civil offenders too, 
 was to be eaten. This practice may have had a ritual 
 origin, but actual want of food or other circumstances 
 led to a cost and practical view of cannibalism rare else- 
 where, even in the South Seas. Human flesh was out- 
 spokenly relished. An informant of mine once asked 
 an old cannibal how it tasted, and learned that " Six 
 days after I had eaten it, the smell of my breath would 
 have made you hungry." In the last dreadful days of 
 the Han-Han war one Kereopa swallowed the eyes of 
 a missionary, and a follower of his, on being reproached 
 with the act, explained, " There is no difference between 
 a dead man's eyes and a dead fish's eyes. As he 
 swallowed the right eye he said ' This is the Queen,' 
 as he swallowed the left eye he said ' This is the Parlia- 
 ment.' It was a symbolic act." 
 
 One seems to see the unpleasant possibility that canni- 
 balism might be more justified than many things the 
 white man does or has done ; and perhaps it is best not 
 to inquire too closely into the matter. One may add 
 that the victim's degradation did not end with his death. 
 The Maoris had a way of preserving the heads of their 
 enemies (like the Jiaros of Peru). The features shrank, 
 but could be recognised, and the head became a per- 
 manent memorial of triumph. Its humiliation was 
 completed by setting it up in a cooking house. The 
 bones of the skeleton were utilised for parrot rings. 
 
 2A 
 
370 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 One result of these institutions was that the Maoris 
 buried their dead in secret places. 
 
 Their lives in peace were sensible and moral, and 
 women were well treated. Marriages were by arrange- 
 ment, endoga!mous; -the token system was unknown. 
 One may suppose, except in times. of death or defeat, 
 things went well enough; there was ample occupation, 
 interest and happiness. The Maoris was one of the 
 few savage races whom the white man has found in 
 the hey-day of their vigour. What has he gained from 
 the white man's arrival? 
 
 The first white men to land in New Zealand were 
 Tasman and Cook. Later on the island became a ren- 
 dezvous for whalers and traders. The traders often 
 settled there, like clients in old Roman days, under the 
 protection of powerful chiefs. The articles they bought 
 were dried heads for museums, and " flax"; the pay- 
 ;m'ent was made in drink, guns and powder. The 
 ' drink does not seem to have done much harm ; the 
 Maoris showed great self-^control. The guns and 
 powder revolutionised native war. * It had always been 
 cruel; it now became devastating in the extreme. The 
 'first tribes to acquire European weapons greedily exter- 
 minated their enemies. They paid themselves, how- 
 ever, a penalty for this greed. The flax with which 
 they bought their arms was only to be obta;ined by long 
 toil in the unhealthy swamps; to this and to the un- 
 healthy excitement of the period the first decline of 
 the Maoris was due. 
 
 The next arrivals were Protestant missionaries. 
 They worked on faniiliar lines, and met on the whole 
 
 * It is ■ifortii recording that the ..Queen of England innocently 
 made presents of arms to Maori chiefs. 
 
NEW ZEALAND 371 
 
 with success. The spiritualistic system vanished before 
 Christianity, and, in some districts, the Maoris began to 
 cultivate the arts of peace which the missionaries intro- 
 duced. Here and there this was encouraged by far- 
 sighted chiefs, and I may pause to recognise the 
 pripcience and character of these men. They perceived 
 that the mana of the European was superior to that of the 
 Maori, and some of them resolved to visit the European 
 in his own home and learn the secret of his civilisation. 
 Unaided, in some cases, they worked their way to 
 England as d&ilors, with a courage and constancy un- 
 surpassed in the history of man, undaunted alike by 
 suffering and by insults, which no mortal brooked less 
 than a Maori chief. Some of them starved to death in 
 the streets of London; others, rescued at the last 
 moment, returned to New Zealand. Among such was 
 Duaterra, whose struggle to save his countryrrien is one 
 of the most moving things in history. He was especi- 
 ally anxious that they should learn to plant corn ; he 
 saw where their weakness lay. 
 
 "Truths would you teach or save a sinking land, 
 All fear, none aid you, none understand. 'Jj^ 
 
 If I remember right, Dauterra was poisoned by a 
 woman who disliked his innovations. 
 
 What might have happened had the Maoris been 
 left to the missionaries and to officials, one cannot say ; 
 the nineteenth century saw settlers arrive. The settlers 
 long preceded the British flag but that came too, and a 
 British Governor. The early Governors were incom- 
 petent men, but the credit of Britain was redeemed by 
 Sir George Gray, who made a long and nobte attempt 
 to protect and reconcile both Maoris and settlers. That 
 attempt seemed to be meeting with some success, when 
 
372 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 the Maori War broke out. It was a war over land; a 
 certain Maori claimed rights over a piece of land which 
 the British Government considered they had bought. 
 Technically, the British Government seem to have been 
 wrong; but then, owing to the Maori communism, it 
 was impossible to know when all claims to a pieq| of 
 land had been satisfied, and since the Maoris would not 
 abandon this system, a secure purchase of land became 
 almost impossible. The British Government acted in 
 good faith, and I do not see how they can be blamed. 
 Moreover, it is certain that the increasing number of 
 settlers had alarmed the Maoris, and they thought it 
 high time to fight for the possession of the islands. 
 
 Thus- began the Maori War, which lasted for ten 
 years. It ended, of course,, in the victory of the Colony, 
 at the cost of many millions ; but it is not superfluous 
 to observe that only the possession of superior arms 
 enabled the white man to triumph. The Maoris fought 
 with heroic valour, and the war was a lortg series of 
 attacks on fortified places which were carried with 
 difficulty, aij4 gave no great advantage to their pos- 
 sessor. Onelsuch occasion is remembered for the 
 answer which f the garrison gave when they were sum- 
 moned to surrender; " This is the word of the Maori; 
 we will fight for ever and ever and ever." The war, 
 unlike the Indian wars of America, was marked by no 
 wanton horrors; the Maoris did not kill women and 
 children and torture captives, and their opponents also 
 treated them with forbearance. Many tales survive 
 of chivalrous conduct on both sides- 
 One thing the Maoris certainly gained from the war, 
 and that is the respect of the white man. They possess 
 it still ; Maori blood i§ not, in itself, a disqualification 
 
NEW ZEALAND 373 
 
 for any office or society in New Zealand. Many mixed 
 marriages still take place, and the children lie under no 
 reproach. I believe this is the only instance in the 
 world where a savage race has extorted such a position 
 from the white man, and it should be recorded to the 
 credit of both sides. But when this is said, all is said. 
 The Maoris who now survive — 4000 in number — are, 
 for the most part, sunk in hopeless poverty and misery. 
 There are some few rich men among them, and those 
 are regions where, owing, I believe, to missionary effort, 
 something like civilised society has been created. But 
 for the most part, and everywhere in the regions I 
 traversed, the Maori is fallen. He has shown no power 
 whatever to learn the lessons of civilisation. His home 
 is dirty and comfortless; whatever money comes into 
 his hands he wastes in yam and artificial flowers ; steady 
 work he cannot endure, he would rather, like his fathers, 
 take the chance of the day and* pass, according to the 
 season, from sluttish plenty to starvation. 
 
 He is "educated"; schools are open to him, with 
 curricula as useless and unsuitable as it is possible to 
 make them. The Maori language, it is needless to say, 
 is not officially recognised. « 
 
 The great political problem connected with these 
 people was the land problem. The old treaty of 
 Waitangi, in 1840, recognised the whole of New 
 Zealand as the property of the Maoris, and pro- 
 vided that only Government should have the power to 
 buy it from them. It would be long to tell the story 
 of the troubles that arose out of this; but the up- 
 shot of all is, that in seventy years the Maoris have 
 lost almost all their land. Partly because they have 
 always been anxious to get rid of it, and to lay 
 
374 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 their hands on a little" money. The land they had 
 and have still is rendered useless to them by their 
 communistic system, which makes it hopeless for any 
 particular person to start cultivation. It is easy to sug- 
 gest th^t the British Govfernment might have taken the 
 Maoris by the hand and helped them to reform their 
 system and replace their old ideals, but there is no reason 
 to suppose that any such efforts would have succeeded. 
 The Maoris have never appreciated the new world before 
 them any more than that old chie^f of theirs who died 
 with the words, " Be brave, my children, that you may 
 live." They have never perceived that courage with- 
 out union is powerless; for on that the white man's 
 success is built upon certain commonplace virtues 
 .which they possess not. It is a dreary tale. One 
 cannot look unmoved on the faces of the old Maori 
 chiefs. Like that of the American-Indians they show 
 " a courage never to despair or yield," which seems to 
 be one of the highest gifts of man. Yet in their hour 
 of trial it was useless to them. 
 
 Day after d^y I rode through the Urawere country, 
 whose woods and streams I have described, and stayed 
 with the Maoris all night. Very few, they were, and I 
 was startled to find among them English children, dere- 
 licts of civilisation, whom the Maoris (like the white 
 men of New Zealand), exempt from race feeling, had 
 adopted. I saw also old men of the past, very old men, 
 with tattooed faces, to whom the past was present, and 
 the present non-existent. They sang for me Maofi 
 songs; the war song of Te Kooti, and songs about the 
 stars — ^why does Canopus mistrust the other stars and 
 keep to himself in a corner of the sky? I listened with 
 greedy ears, for there will soon be no mortal men to sing 
 
NEW ZEALAND 375 
 
 uch songs, not till Shiva has danced the tandeva, and 
 he procession of the aeons starts anew. I was at a 
 freat Christmas feast, something in the old savage style, 
 reneered with civilisation; joints of oxen, dried eels, 
 leaps and heaps of potatoes, and long, long speeches 
 n Maori about nothing at all. 
 
 But above everything else I visited Rua. This Rua 
 vas a roadmaker in Government service, who felt him- 
 ielf called to found a new religion. Something more 
 han a religion it was at first, till Government sent 
 lim a hint that " there could not be two suns in one 
 iky." Then he confined himself to religion. Know- 
 ng from Christianity its millenarian dreams, he pro- 
 laimed the foundation of New Jerusalem in the forests 
 »f Tuhoeland. He called on his countrymen to sell 
 vhat land or treasure they had left, and to join him in 
 learing the forest for the city of God. Many of them 
 ibeyed, and the city was some three years old when I 
 isited it. A more curious sight I have never seen. In 
 
 clearing of that gigantic forest, on the side of a hill, 
 /as a small group of wooden huts with a palisade round 
 hem. One good house was Rua's; and by it was a 
 ound building of fantastic form — his temple, adorned 
 nth mystic emblems of Unity and the Trinity. The 
 ther houses within the pale were those of the elders. 
 )utside it were other houses, and some buildings for 
 gricultural purposes. 
 
 Rua I met ; his face was open , bright, and sunny ; his 
 )ng hair gave him a resemblance to the usual pictures 
 f Christ. He spoke little English, and I gathered no 
 npression of his character — unsuitable, probably like 
 le characters of other leaders of religious movements, 
 his much is certain, that he had the best house in the 
 
376 IN FOREIGT^ LAFDS 
 
 settlement, much household staff, and eight " wives " — 
 for from the Mormons* he had borrowed the doctrine of 
 polygamy. One of these " wives " was ill when I was 
 there, and this, perhaps, was why Rua did not attend 
 morning prayers next day. I did so, however, rising 
 betimes, and ascending a hill-top, to a flat place where 
 Rua's followers were holding sunrise service. They were 
 all people of simple mystic type; a touching sight, for 
 if ever sheep were gathered without a shepherd it was 
 there. The movement was just collapsing; there were 
 only about fifty people in the settlement, people who 
 had lost all ; and I heard that during the past year some 
 had perished of starvation. 
 
 Had the Maoris been wise they would have entrusted 
 themselves wholeheartedly to the Church of England or 
 the Church of Rome. ' As it is, they have coquetted with 
 Mormons, Seventh Day Adventists, and other sectaries; 
 the result is, Rua, I fancy, their old Shamanism, is ex- 
 tinct, though Spiritualism among the Europeans may at 
 any time revive it. But no distant date will probably 
 see the Maoris themselves vanish. Their numbers are 
 falling. Disease, drink, and unchastity are thinning 
 them out; probably they will soon be a memory or 
 merely a strain in New Zealand blood. What the dom- 
 inion will have to watch carefully in the meantime is 
 that no deprived clan of Maori, or half-caste Maoris, is 
 formed. 
 
 I bethink myself how that not a word have I yet said 
 about the wild animals of New Zealand. Let justice 
 be done to them. This will be easy enough, for New 
 Zealand was simply devoid of fourfooted aborigines. 
 One there was, the Maori rat, which perhaps the Maoris 
 
 * The Mormons carry, on an active propaganda in New Zealand. 
 
NEW ZEALAND 377 
 
 brought with them, a succulent rat, now extinct. There 
 were, however, many birds. The most interesting to 
 the stranger are the wingless birds, the kiwis and others, 
 still visible in the remote jungles. They look some- 
 thing like jay-fowl and are bold in the neighbourhood 
 of man, not knowing that dogs will presently make an 
 end of them. Many pretty and many vocal birds in- 
 habited the New Zealand jungles, and with the increase 
 of clearing their numbers might perhaps have increased, 
 if it be true, as is sometimes said, that song birds multi- 
 ply where cultivated land meets forest. Things, how- 
 ever, have not taken this turn in New Zealand ; weasels 
 and other enemies have almost exterminated the native 
 birds. It is said, however, that the last few years have 
 shown a small increase in their numbers; they have 
 perhaps learned to protect their nests. It is a pity they 
 should vanish ; one of my pleasant recollections of the 
 country is the parson bird singing near Lake Waikare- 
 moano. The Government has set apart one of four 
 islands near the coast as resorts for them. 
 
 One curious problem of New Zealand ornithology is 
 the date of the Moa; This was a gigantic wingless 
 bird, whose bones have been pretty freely picked up 
 throughout the country. Now bones are perishable 
 relics, and it would seem that the last Moa cannot have 
 died long ago. Why is it, then, that the Maoris know 
 nothing of him, and there is not a trace of him in 
 their legends? He was not only large enough to 
 see, but large enough to be an important dish at 
 their feasts. 
 
 Be it added that New Zealand seas lodge within them 
 the only fish with a personal history. " Pelorous Jack " 
 is his name; he haunts Pelorous Sound, and t\trice a 
 
378 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 week, fori many years, he has never failed to pilot the 
 steamer through the Sound, plunging and splashing by 
 her side. He has been photographed and recognised 
 as a kind of dolphin; but there this strange intercourse 
 between man and the finny tribe comes to an end. 
 Some years ago, an attempt was made to shoot him, 
 but a special act of Parliament now prohibits such an 
 outrage. 
 
 Perch and trout hiave been introduced into the country, 
 and the trout not only thrive but show the most extraor- 
 dinary increase in weight, running up to twenty pounds. 
 This is a fact without parallel in natural history. 
 
 Pass on now to the white man in New Zealand, 
 viewing him no more as the instrument of Providence 
 against the Maori, but in himself and his achievements, 
 and let us first do just justice to the old emigrants. It 
 is amazing to think that their story has passed from the 
 minds of men, even Englishmen; 1830 and 1840 are 
 as far from us as the stone age. Seeing what New 
 Zealand is to-day men fail to realise that there was any- 
 thing remarkable in its settlement. Yet so remarkable 
 was it that a deeper reflection will leave us lost in 
 wonder as to what can have been the motives of the 
 early emigrants. They had before them a six month's 
 voyage; that they knew; did they know what the un- 
 cleared forest was like ? Why did they leave their coun- 
 try? What hope or what illusion possessed them? 
 Those who went to New Zealand were not for the most 
 part men who would have failed at home ; they were 
 strong and capable men, and often men with a little 
 means. The crest of the war, in a Volks vev wanderung, 
 is not always of this kind ; I have seen in some parts of 
 the world, the advance guard of a race to be wastrels, 
 
NEW ZEALAND 379 
 
 whom society has extruded; but the colonists of New 
 Zealand were really picked men. Whether or not they 
 knew what lay before them, when they reached New 
 Zealand they set to work, and drove before them the 
 demons of the wilderness. Scorning comforts, and 
 medical appliances, and newspapers, they educated them- 
 selves to the day's word; "chop, chop," and " dig, 
 dig " for the men, " wjish, wash," and " mend, mend," 
 for the women. Varied this was for the women by the 
 cares of childbirth, and for the men occasionally, by 
 broils with the Maoris. LitUe record remains of the 
 nations feelings and experiences of this age ; but a few 
 old books tell monotonous tales of the voyages, its hard 
 fare, crowded quarters and tumbling waves; and the 
 sentiments of the early homesteads may sometimes be 
 gathered too, sometimes even in the present day, from 
 veterans at first hand. 
 
 New Zealand now, like Australia, though not quite 
 to the same degree, dislikes country and frontier life. 
 Government encourages it, offering land on favourable 
 terms — ^which is easier to do in New Zealand than in 
 Australia, because large holdings are not so common. 
 I remember one new settlement which I visited in 
 Tuhoeland. It was situated in reclaimed country which 
 the Government had offered in small holdings to dairy 
 farmers. This had all. been taken up, and a lucrative 
 business in cheese was afoot. I visited the co-operative 
 factory, a clean and vigorous institution, and stayed 
 with one family who let rooms. It was clear, however, 
 that no great content reigned in their bosoms. They 
 disliked the loneliness of the station, and the seven 
 days' work which dairy farming involves. Their child- 
 ren may — or may not — think differently. At present, 
 
380 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 so far as I can see, the taste for the settler's life is dead 
 among the Anglo-Saxon people. ' If at all alive, it is 
 only alive in Canada, a part of our " empire " which I 
 have scarcely seen. 
 
 As New Zealanders made a good beginning in mater- 
 ial affairs, so, too, they have continued well, and 
 neglected none of their opportunities. They had be- 
 fore them a virgin land, and truly they have wooed and 
 enjoyed her. They have turned her forests into timber, 
 and extorted gold and Kauri* gum from her soil. 
 They have reared up millions of sheep, not the merino 
 of Australia, which needs a drier climate than that of 
 New Zealand, but a sturdier animal, that ends his life 
 in the refrigerating chamber. Moreover, the fisheries 
 of the coast are turned to good account, and even Aus- 
 tralia, which sniffs at things New Zealand, enjoys her 
 smoked blue cod. 
 
 The towns of New Zealand are all bright, attractive 
 places. There are four that lead, Auckland, Welling- 
 ton, Christchurch, and Dunedin, and it is a happy 
 circumstance that no one is pre-eminent. They are very 
 English in their appearance, there is nothing in their 
 streets that speaks of the Southern Cross. If, more- 
 over, the four towns I have mentioned lead, those that 
 follow them are only smaller, not less solid or attractive. 
 Far away in the south is vigorous Invercargill; in the 
 north, delightful Napier, to which I mean to retire some 
 day. It has the climate of lotus land, and a lovely park, 
 
 *The kauri is a magnificent timber tree (now approaching 
 extinction). It produces on its bark a gum-Tike amber, and there 
 are places where lumps of this gum, now buried in the soil, are 
 the sole relic of ancient forests. It is too brittle to be used for the 
 purposes of amber, but the best pieces are very beautiful, and 
 have the water and fire of precious stones. 
 
NEW ZEALAND 381 
 
 and if little tidings of the world vex its repose, that is the 
 true milieu for an old Anglo-Indian. 
 
 Now with respect to their riches and pleasures of 
 New Zealand, the great point to observe is that they are 
 equally shared. New Zealand, as all the world knows,, 
 is a Socialist experiment. Everything there either 
 belongs to or is strictly regulated by the Government. 
 Hours of labour are so fix^d, wages, and conditions of 
 labour. You are sure of your eight shillings a day; 
 and rigorous rules prevent any man from doing the 
 least little bit of a job that belongs to any other trade. 
 Old age pensions, I think, ten shillings a week; state 
 insurance of all kinds; and, altogether, for the humblest 
 citizen, a life secure from care. Strange course of his- 
 tory that has brought this to pass where, not long ago, 
 every man fought nature for himself. 
 
 The programme is not quite complete. Private 
 ownership of land survives, though not large estates. 
 There -are one or two large industries, some of which 
 I visited, amongst others ■ the Gear Meat Company. 
 It is a large concern, that slaughters and refrigerates 
 sheep and cattle. I saw, I believe, every cbrner of it, and 
 wish to record its wonderful cleanliness, its light 
 and airy rooms, and, of course, its economy of labour, 
 and products. Not long' afterwards I saw Chicago, which 
 in all but economy, is a whole age behind it. Public 
 sentiment in New Zealand does not allow women or 
 children to be employed in such a place; America, 
 please notice. ••-«. 
 
 How far, now, is this Socialist experiAient a success? 
 At the moment, apparently its success is real. Per- 
 haps the chief drawback to the system is its unfair 
 pressure on the professional and upper middle classes. 
 
382 IN I'OREIGN LANDS 
 
 The fixed refusal of. women to accept domestic service 
 makes domestic life very tiresome for these; higher 
 education is comparatively expensive, and the middle 
 cl^ss parent is the least fortunate person in New Zealand. 
 Were I one of his number I should not hesitate to bring 
 up my own sons as carpenters; but class sentiment, still 
 surviving in the country, forbids this expedient to the 
 New Zealand doctor and lawyer. Now the future of the 
 situation remains to be seen. The present is satis- 
 factory to those who opine that men who are not manual 
 labourers should be repressed. It may not always pay 
 society to take this view. At present, the culture of 
 New Zealand is chiefly imported froin the old world, 
 which she has improved on, but one day she will have to 
 decide whether to do without it or produce it herself. 
 
 At present, the tone of society is happier than that 
 of Australia. There is not the same previous class 
 hatred. Perhaps because there are no great fortunes in 
 New Zealand to excite men's cupidity or outrage their 
 moral feelings. Perhaps because it may really be true 
 that in some parts of Australia, labour is underpaid — - 
 though these are not parts that I visited. Anyhow, the 
 fact is certain. But I do not think New Zealar^d has 
 any special lessons tp teach a larger and more complex 
 world. Moreover, when we reflect that in these islands, a 
 people even now less than a million in number have 
 receiyed from Providence a rich and virgin country to 
 plunder, and were themselves originally picked men, 
 and have been able to borrow ;^72, 000,000* from the old 
 world, it is not surprising that one should find them 
 
 * I have not seen this figure in any official book, but it is the 
 figure which usually appears in print as the sum total of the 
 public debt^of New Zealand. 
 
NEW ZEALAND 383 
 
 living in comfort. The day will come later on when the 
 value of their social fabric is tested. 
 
 The general expenses of life are moderate, except 
 in the case of house rent' and certain manufactured 
 articles. Like Australia, the country is strongly pro- 
 tectionist, the usual argument for the policy being that 
 cheap articles from England and elsewhere are made 
 by sweated labour, and should be excluded., As in 
 Australia, the value of this position will be tested when 
 the natural resources of the country begin to fail, or to 
 bear a smaller proportion to the population. 
 
 In politics, adult suffrage and female suffrage prevail. 
 The father of the family weighs no more with the state 
 than the boy or girl who is still a student and lives at 
 his expense. However, at present, no great harm seems 
 to be done. The tone of political life is pure; there is 
 no bribery of individuals. Bribery of constituencies is 
 recognised as legitimate; the constituency which does 
 not return a representative of the right colour will find 
 • the central government indifferent to its local needs. 
 Here again, however, the country is in general so pros- 
 perous that no great harm seems to be done. It must 
 be noted, however, that New Zealand politicians do not 
 seem to manage their money affairs very well, and 
 financial crisis recur as regularly as famines in India. 
 
 The influence of the female vote is difficult to deter- 
 mine. Probably it has soniethihg to do with the strict 
 attitude taken by all authorities against drink and 
 " vice." To what results this attitude leads no one 
 could really say. It is certain that in many districts, 
 especially in the "dry" districts of the south, open 
 driiiking has disappeared. So, too, has open profes- 
 sional vice all over the islands. But I remember what one 
 
384 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 New Zealander said to me, " This suits the father of a 
 son much better than the father of a daughter." I will 
 say no more myself for I have no more to say; I was 
 frankly a tourist, and what serious study J gave to any- 
 thing was given to the Maoris. 
 
 With regard to the -orthodox religions, they are feeble 
 causes. The people have listened to another Gospel : 
 
 " Ein neues Lied ein besseres Lied, 
 O Volk will ich euch dichten; 
 Wir werden jetzt auf- Erdenplatz 
 Das Himmetreich errichten. " 
 
 Some of the older school are left, for New Zealand 
 altogether is not three generations old, but I wrote of 
 the Spirit of the Age. The Sabbath Day is still observed. 
 
 Public institutions fall short of Australia's level, yet 
 there are some good museums. That at Auckland has 
 a fine collection of Maori art, and at Christchurch 
 there is a spirited attempt to illustrate the history of 
 older civilisations. The educational system, at a casual 
 glance, appears to be much in arrear of that of Austra- 
 lia; it is too local. 
 
 Gne may close with a glance at New Zealand's place 
 in the British Empire. It is first to be noted that 
 sentiment towards the Motherland is warm and friendly. 
 There is nowhere to be heard in New Zealand concern- 
 ing England the contemptuous tone of the Australian 
 Bulletin. New Zealand is conscious of this and insists 
 on it. It is one of the things by which she had thought 
 herself to be distinguished from Australia. These two 
 countries see little of each other, and in spite of common 
 ideals and the alarm of any grievances, their mutual 
 feeling is one of dislike. Perhaps the New Zealanders 
 took once too superior a tone towards Australian 
 
NEW ZEALAND 385 
 
 origins, and Australia has not forgotten this. So even 
 to-day, 'New Zealand and Australia both deal separ- 
 ately with the old land and do not take counsel with 
 each other even for defence. New Zealand, being the 
 smaller of the two and obviously too weak to stand 
 alone, is impelled by many considerations towards 
 England. Perhaps she, too, would move less in this 
 direction were it not that the Tropics and the millions of 
 Asia are so near her. Four days sail from Auckland is 
 Fiji, and Fiji, which has already a large Indian popula- 
 tion, will soon, like the rest of the South Seas, be a 
 dependency of Asia. New Zealand, with its population 
 of less than a million, feels that seven hundred millions 
 of Indians, Chinese and Japanese would easily engulf 
 her. Thus her sentiments are hostile to colour, though 
 here, too, her hostility is less fierce than that of Australia. 
 Asiatics are excluded. 
 
 To England, of course, she will have to look when 
 trouble of this or any other sort overtakes her. And, 
 to be just, she is ready to help the old country, though 
 her help is still that of a child " helping " its mother. 
 If I am not mistaken the battleship which she lately 
 presented to England was built in England with 
 money borrowed from England, and the interest on the 
 same is New Zealand's real contribution to Imperial 
 defence. 
 
 The first need of the future is more men. How many 
 men New Zealand could support one cannot say, much 
 of the country is sterile, but certainly more than a 
 million, and New Zealand sentiment would welcome 
 them. What is wanted, however, is still pioneers. 
 
 So here my story ends. One day in February, 1910, 
 I found myself on the Haurotu leaving Wellington for 
 
 2B 
 
386 IN FOKEIGN LANDS 
 
 San Francisco. I watched the sunset on the New 
 Zealand cliffs, and said to myself, Farewell here to the 
 old world, for though New Zealand, like her Mother, 
 has swept into a newer age, she still belongs to the old 
 world of our fathers. But America is a newer cycle, I 
 leave behind me here the sights and sounds of England ; 
 it will be long before I meet them again. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS 
 
 The Hebrews of old, and the Greeks who followed them, 
 made a threefold division of mankind ; Columbus added 
 a fourth, and the eighteenth century a fifth — the South 
 Sea Islanders. Here, once more, emerged a people, not 
 of Ham nbr Shem nor Japheth, a people unknown to 
 history, and a land unknown to geographers. 
 
 It was no such discovery as that of America. No cos- 
 mology was overthrown by it, no theology disloc^ted^ and 
 no dreams of Indian gold tempted sotdiers to cohquest or 
 princes to annexations.' Yet, for a while, the new islands 
 drew the eyes of the world to them. N6t only the savants, 
 but the more general readers of Europe were pleased to 
 have a new race of savages brought up for inspection. 
 Indeed, the savage of that time had scarcely lost his 
 novelty as a human figure; to contemplate him was 
 still a luxury, like the smoking of tobacco, untasted by 
 the philosophers of Greece or Rome, or the monks of 
 the Middle Ages. The Polynesians, moreover, were a 
 fascinating people. Their sea-girt home, their tabu and 
 other quaint customs, their liberal ideas in " love," and 
 their cannibal feasts, these were all piquant features in 
 the scene. They had the advantage of Cook's faithful 
 pen, and they gained a leading place in the topics of the 
 age. After a time they lost it. The islands were for- 
 gotten. Captain Cook became a boys' author, and little 
 
 387 
 
388 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 was heard of Polynesia for a hundred years. Not long 
 ago they came into notice again, when the European 
 Powers, to save trouble in the future, made a friendly 
 division of them all. 
 
 Nevertheless, the islands had a hundred years of 
 history, and always in the northern hemisphere some 
 interested eyes were fixed on them. Naturalists, ethnol- 
 ogists, and religionists all studied them with different 
 aims, and a few dreamers dreamed of them as a refuge 
 from civilisation. Perhaps not many of these voyaged 
 beneath the Southern Cross ; but they beheld Polynesia, 
 like the prophet, afar off, always a fairyland of fancy, 
 peopled by coevals of Mariner and Cook. Vain fancy I 
 Civilisation, that swallows up everything, has not left 
 Polynesia unmeddled with. > 
 
 Not that the South Seas of to-day are less beautiful 
 in aspect than of old. The sea is not less blue, nor 
 mantled with less charm upon the shores. The fringing 
 reefs with their green shallows, the lines of foam, the 
 many contrasts of smooth and troubled waters, they still 
 are as our predecessors found them ; and never can the 
 first sight of a South Sea Island lose its power to trans- 
 port the mind. There are_ low reefs, indeed, like the 
 Paumotus, which must steal their way into the affec- 
 tions, but not so the great volcanic masses of Fiji or 
 Tahiti. Straight up from the water they rise, three or 
 four thousand feet in height, green with masses of trees, 
 or fronting the skies with bastions and towers of rock. 
 It is well to draw near them at early dawn, when the 
 land breeze is blowing, welcoming the mariner to the 
 shore. What a burden of scents it brings! Scents of 
 earth, and grass, and flowers, how welcome to the 
 voyager at sea ! In such an hour we can appreciate 
 
THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS 389 
 
 what the old sailors felt, when, after months of toil 
 and hard sea-fare, they hailed the land, and promised 
 themselves, in a few hours, new faces, new Sounds, the 
 smooth waters of the harbour, and the pleasures of the 
 shore. 
 
 Pen and pencil can hardly paint these island shores, 
 for they cannot render their harmonies. Their very air 
 seems part of them, and the sea and sky belong to each 
 other. The sky is mirrored in the lagoon, and, on the 
 horizon, the firmament above melts into the firmament 
 beneath. The soothing winds and the day-long n^urmur 
 of the breakers persuade every sense to take its fill of 
 pleasure. 
 
 If you visit one of the large islands, like Fiji, the 
 interior is hardly less charming than the coast. I made 
 choice myself of Fiji, for a month's excursion, choosing 
 rather to have a month there than one or two days at 
 several islands. Unfortunately, while it is easy to visit 
 any island from Australia or New Zealand, when you get 
 there, you have always the choice of a few hours in port, 
 while the steamer calls, or a mon'tli between two steamers. 
 You cannot make a tour of the island, calling a week at 
 each, unless you charter a boat of your own and make 
 your own way about. To do this you would not need 
 a very long purse, but you would need to be, a good 
 sailor and (probably) to be proof against the smell of 
 copra. There are few boats that do not carry, or have 
 not at some time carried, copra, and the oily, rancid 
 smell of this article, once established in a boat, never 
 forsakes her. Possibly, too, yotir fortitude may be tried 
 in another way; high winds may get up, and you may 
 be blown almost any distance from your course. Small 
 boats have met with incredible adventures in the Pacific, 
 
390 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 and even native canoes crossing narrow straits have been 
 blown hundreds of miles away. 
 
 Now I have no adventure of this kind to record^ for 
 I travelled to Fiji from Sydney in a Union steamer; 
 we had high seas on the passage, but reached Suva 
 very comfortably in October 1909. This is not the best 
 season of the year for a visit ; the weather in the south 
 of Viti Levu is hot and wet, but travelling is possible* 
 And this is perhaps the place to speak of the geography 
 of Fiji, and of routes and means of locomotion. 
 
 The name " Fiji " covers a numerous group of islands. 
 The largest is Viti Levu, the largest island in the South 
 Pacific ; the second largest is Vanua Levu ; there are 
 many others smaller. All are masses of volcanic rock, 
 and the scenery is the same in all. The climate is 
 thoroughly tropical, there is little difference between the 
 seasons, and almost everywhere there is a heavy rainfall. 
 The northern half of Viti Levu does not share in this 
 rainfall, it is dry and treeless (as, I was told), and sheep 
 will live there;: elsewhere, especially in Suva, the rains 
 are long and heavy^hirty-six inches have fallen in 
 twenty-four hours. 
 
 Owing to this rainfall, and to good fortune in its 
 levels, the island of Viti Levu is watered by magnificent 
 rivers. They are worthy of a great continent, broad, 
 and deep, and navigable for many miles; we have no 
 such rivers in India. I travelled in a steamer up the 
 Rewa fifty miles, as far as Viria. Once you leave the 
 river, however, locomotion becomes as hard as it was 
 easy. There are scarcely any roads in the islands; the 
 British Government has made one or two — ^steep and 
 narrow and muddy tracks. No carts could pass along 
 them, and, as there are no beasts of burden, your only 
 
THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS 391 
 
 resource is coolies. These, however, scarcely exist. The 
 Fijians, big as they are, make clumsy and feeble porters 
 compared with Indians, and unless you have Govern- 
 ment or missionary influence to help you, you will not 
 get their services at all. No, no matter what you pay 
 them ; and a rupee a day is the least a Fijian will look 
 at. I owed everything to the kindness of Mr Brown, a 
 missionary of Bau, who gave me a circular letter to the 
 village pastors (tala-tala). They, on receiving the same, 
 arranged for my food and lodging, and for coolies to the 
 next village. The accommodation cost me about three 
 rupees a night, and the coolies a rupee a head. 
 
 Everything went smoothly, though the paths led 
 sometimes over cliffs and sometimes through swamps, 
 and the fords were hot a little trying. (You should, if 
 possible; be a good swimmer to travel through Fiji.) 
 My chief difficulty was with the language. The Fijians 
 speak no English, and no interpreters exist. I took a 
 little English boy with me tq Bau, who spoke Fijian, 
 but he was not equal to the longer excursion. At Bau 
 I found a retired Sergeant of the Fiji Contingent, who 
 spoke English Ivell, and might have been very service- 
 able if he would have come with me. I offered him the 
 pay of his rank and a travelling allowance, but he stood 
 out for twice this sum, and I would not give it. (As' I 
 left Bau he was making a speech to the lookers-on, 
 exposing my folly and pointing out how he could 
 have bullied the villagers into bringing me fowls.) My 
 chief resource was the Hindu traders, who spoke a 
 very quaint Hindustani, and went between me and 
 the Fijians. Thus I got some questions asked and 
 answered, but every traveller will know how little I 
 learned and how much I failed to learn. 
 
392 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 The scenery everywhere was stupendous. The moun- 
 tains rose up to five thousand feet high, masses of prodi- 
 gious grandeur, clothed with forests of sombre green. 
 Round their bases stole and wound the rivers, bordered 
 by a few cultivated fields ; signs of , habitation were few 
 or none. Never have I seen more splendid the pomp of 
 the skies, for, when thunder-clouds gather in the Tropics, 
 the sun ruling in the zenith envelops them in a glory of 
 rays and reflections unknown in Europe. We travelled 
 in perfect security; order reigns throughout the island; 
 there are no savage animals, there is no malarial fever. 
 On the other hand, there was not the interest of animals ; 
 there are very few birds in Fiji. I saw no wild parrots, 
 but there is a native parrot of great beauty, which is 
 caught and sold by Hindu traders. Throughout the 
 South Sea Islands wild pigs abound, descended from 
 those forefathers whom Captain Cook brought over. 
 They are much esteemed as food by the islanders; it 
 is even related that women suckle little pigs to bring 
 their flesh to perfection. 
 
 Let me turn now to speak of the race and history of 
 the Fijians. There are plenty of books about them, 
 and a few words will be sufficient here. They belong 
 to the Melanesian stock of the Southern Seas, which is 
 very different from that of the Polynesians. Take up 
 the map if need be, and observe how wide is the area 
 of the South Sea Islands, from the Caroline to Easter 
 Island, from Hawaii to New Zealand. The chief home 
 of the Polynesians is in the east and south, the 
 Melanesians occupy the west. Leaving the Polynesians, 
 for the present, alone and speaking of the Fijian, as our 
 type of the Melanesian, the first thing that strikes one 
 about him is his gigantic, muscular form. His colour 
 
THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS 393 
 
 is a deep chocolate brown, you might almost say black; 
 his hair is long, stiff, and crisp, and it stands out from 
 his head like a great brush. There is nothing like it 
 elsewhere in the world, and the Fijians of did time, 
 in their pride, reinforced its dignity with wigs and 
 " transformations." The men's features were bold and 
 resolute ; they have the lips but not the noses of negroes ; 
 though not attractive, they are not repulsive, and seem 
 fitter to inspire fear than disgust. There is not much 
 softness about the women, though a few of them, as in 
 any country, are pleasant looking. I could not perceive 
 that they had any distinct smell. Nor did my own im- 
 pressions lead me to classify them with aily other race 
 I have ever seen. 
 
 When Fiji was first discovered, society was organised 
 under various chiefs, whose power was hereditary. 
 Frontiers and capitals changed, but within his own dis- 
 trict each chief was paramount. His rank was more 
 than human, and he was ever approached with scrupu- 
 lous ceremony. There was at times a recognised king 
 of the wide island, whose court, at the close of the 
 epoch, was at Bau. Here a special dialect was in use, 
 as in Burma and the Malay States, and a harem of the 
 old Eastern type was maintained, in so far, at least, that 
 the fairest virgins were sent there for the king to 
 delight in. 
 
 Society under the chiefs was largely communist; 
 property was held and work was carried on in common. 
 Women were not secluded, though custom, as in all 
 such cases, kept them a good deal apart. Men associated 
 with men. and women with women. Money was 
 unknown. 
 
 Food was abundant. On the seashore fish were 
 
394 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 caught; on land yams arid taro were grown. The yam 
 is a long root that cooks and tastes like a potato; taro 
 is the allocassia, not unknown in India, but seldom 
 used there for food. The root is a round lump of three 
 or four inches diameter,- purple in colmir. It is boiled 
 for use; the stranger finds it heavy and tasteless. I 
 had a fortnight of taro and yams on my travels and was 
 glad to get back tp the fleshpots of civilisation. 
 
 The original clothing of tlje Fijians was bark-cloth, 
 made of bark beaten out with a mallet. There were 
 many varieties of it; the most costly was as fine as 
 tissue-paper, and could hardly be worn more than once. 
 Much labour was needed to keep the chiefs supplied 
 with this article. 
 
 Houses were built, as they are still, of matting 
 fastened to uprights of tree-fern stems. The floors were 
 covered with matting, much of it beautifully woven. 
 The man of position was distinguished, then as now, 
 by the number and style of the mats he could produce. 
 They were sometimes decorated with birds' feathers, 
 and their pattern proclaimed their place of origin. 
 
 The state of war was general and habitual. No 
 missies were in use, only clubs of endless size and 
 variety. Their curious shapes are pretty well known, 
 for every museum in the world possesses some. Their 
 weight testifies to the strength of the old Fijians, for 
 only a race of giants could have swung them ; and it 
 is still worth while to watch a man go through the 
 traditional drill with one. But I gather that the Fijians 
 were no such fighters as the Mabries and the Red Men 
 of America. Old stages in the island disparage their 
 prowess, and allege there was more sound and fury than 
 bloodshed in their fighting. 
 
THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS 395 
 
 I do not gather that life in old Fiji was vile or un- 
 happy, except in the one article of cannibalism. It is 
 this that has given Fiji its bad name in the moral 
 legends of Europe; its people were great and shame- 
 less cannibals. Prisoners-of-war and offender's against 
 the chiefs were clubbed, and steamed, and eaten — some- 
 times with dreadful cruelty, for the limbs of living 
 men were sometimes eaten before their eyes. How the 
 practice arose we do not know. Perhaps, solely, as a 
 measure of revenge', for it was considered a shameful 
 end to be eaten, and the victor eating the vanquished 
 gloried in his triumph. But a real delight in human 
 food was not unknown, and it is literally true that such 
 meals were the banquets of Fiji. Perhaps a craving 
 for animal fo<pd may have led to this, if such a craving 
 exists in men, certainly there was nothing in Fiji to 
 satisfy it. Foreigners, however, were not sympathetic, 
 and did not make excuses for cannibalism, nor for the 
 practice of carving the victims' bones into fish-hooks 
 and parrot-rings. 
 
 Such was the world discovered by Tasman in 1643, 
 and visited a century later by our own Captain Cook. 
 Slowly Europeans began to make themselves felt there. 
 Whalers put in for water and vegetables ; traders for 
 copra. In 1804 a few convicts from Australia escaped 
 to the island, and the rascally tribe of European run- 
 aways turned up. The first missionaries arrived in 
 1834. They closed the epoch of village war, but other 
 troubles followed as white adventurers crowded in, and 
 the native king was too feeble to repress them.' The 
 British flag was at that time the only flag known in the 
 South Seas, and the British Government was entreated 
 by the king to take over and administer the country. 
 
396 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 For many years it refused. The British Empire is not, 
 as some suppose, the fruit of greedy and far-sighted 
 annexations; had our rulers been as grasping as they 
 might have been the British flag would float over much 
 territory that is now French or German, over all 
 Australasia' in particular. Most of what we possess has 
 been ^n some way thrust upon our Home Government, 
 by adventurers of our own sometimes, and sometimes 
 by destiny in other shapes. Thus we came by Fijiy 
 which indeed seemed no great prize at the time, but 
 needed rescuing from circumstances. 
 
 The rescue was effected. King Thakombau's debts 
 were regulated, and law and ordef introduced among 
 the white residents of Fiji. I suppose, somewhere, the 
 story of these same residents could be excavated; it is 
 hidden away nowadays, I do not know where one 
 should look for it. It is little to the white man's credit. 
 The beach-combers of the Pacific do not attract us by 
 such feats of hardihood as those of the American 
 pioneers ; they were thieves and loafers who stole boats, 
 and cadged on the natives, and drank and lusted after 
 women. One hears of such a one, how many " wives " 
 and how many children he had, and how he spent his 
 worthless life cheating and pilfering. These gentry, 
 perhaps, did little to break up native society, but they 
 injured it by spreading drink and disease. The more 
 adventurous were masters of slaving vessels, who carried 
 off kanakas from the northern islands, and sold them 
 to the sugar planters of Fiji or Queensland. I put 
 the thing in this way, because this is what it came to ; 
 and One observes that while Britain was fighting a 
 long campaign against the Arab slavers in Africa, slave 
 raids were growing up under her own flag in the Pacific. 
 
THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS 397 
 
 It is just to add that few great horrors occurred in the 
 
 1 
 
 business, which was long ago put down. " Blackbird- 
 ing " was the cant phrase for it; the common plan was 
 to anchor in some quiet little bay, invite the natives on 
 board to trade, entrap them below on the hatches, and 
 sail off. More than once a sham bishop in a white 
 robe was posted on the deck of a slaver to decoy the 
 victims on board. 
 
 The half-caste white is to be found everywhere in the 
 islands. His status varies. In many cases he is simply 
 one of the natives — a position that never occurs in India. . 
 In others he has risen to comfort and dignity. But the 
 spirit of the times is against him. Race sentiment is 
 hardening, and' the half-caste is worse off in Suva, the 
 modern capital, than in old Levuka. He cannot go — 
 or can scarcely go — to the Government school, and the 
 pure white educated in Europe takes a firm attitude 
 against him. 
 
 It is a sad sight to see the poorer children of this 
 class playing about in Suva. Puny, underfed little 
 things — there is not much of old England or old 
 Fiji about them. " Association by contrast " recalls 
 
 Tennyson's lines: 
 
 " Iron-jointed, supple-sinewed, 'they should 
 leap and they should run." 
 
 Poetic dream ! But how little literature has to do with 
 life! Facts are perhaps the grain from which litera- 
 ture is distilled; they are related as a loaf of bread to 
 a bottle of whisky. 
 
 Captain Cook describes the old Fijians as the most 
 ingenious of the South Sea Islanders. He was a good 
 judge, and no doubt he was right. I do not think their 
 art is so beautiful as that of the Solomon Islands, from 
 
398 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 which all the best art of the Pacific comes. But some 
 of their patterns are excellent. They show no influence 
 of natural forms, whatever their origin may have been ; 
 they are sharp, angular pieces of geometry. But they 
 are often well displayed ; it is curious how piquant is 
 a good geometric pattern on a round surface. Their 
 clubs and sceptres are imposing relics of savage state. 
 
 These are practically all lost to Fiji. The British 
 Governnient, which is slow to think of museums, had 
 not started, one when I left, though a fair collection 
 was just then being offered them. ' 
 
 I found a good sceptre (if such it were) in one of the 
 village huts where I stayed, and argued with myself 
 the question whether I should or ought to buy it. At 
 the moment it pleased me to be magnanimous, and to 
 give the owner a solemn injunction against parting with 
 such treasures. He ought to keep it as a relic, an in- 
 spiration. And so, as far as I am concerned, he kept 
 it ; no doubt he has sold it since then for less than I 
 should have given him. What is the right thing to do 
 in such cases? As usual, it is difficult, if not impossible 
 to say — unless you are born to hold strong opinions. 
 
 One may wonder that the marvels of nature have 
 struck the Fijian so little; but natural beauty is a thing 
 that escapes the natural man. The Kashmiri high- 
 lander, fhe Red Man of America, the Fijian, and even 
 the Moari have scarcely noticed that Nature is Worth 
 looking at, though they live in the presence of her 
 masterpieces. So, too, in Europe; we must not go to 
 Switzerland but to Holland for the rise of landscape 
 painting. The history of human development takes its 
 own course ; we know nothing of the inne^ impulse that 
 guides it. Reason fails it and we must submit to facts. 
 
THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS 399 
 
 The Fijian was not an unpoetical person. He had 
 even names for his pedigree clubs : " the weeping impels 
 me to action." His memory was stored with legends, 
 and one that I heard I will repeat to you. " Would 
 you know why the Drui-dela-kula's breast is red? Let 
 me tell you. Once upon a time a goddess caught sight 
 of a young chief sleeping. His beauty inflamed her 
 heart, but she remembered that the eternal laws forbid 
 goddesses to accept the embraces of men, and she would 
 not make herself known to him. Nevertheless, she 
 resolved to keep *him in sight and protect him, and l;o 
 carry out this purpose she turned herself into a parrot. 
 Every day at dawn she settled near him on a bread-fruit 
 tree, and went on calling till he noticed her. Presently 
 there was formed a league Of tribes against the chief, 
 and he went out to fight them. The parrot followed 
 him. One night she found the enemy gathering to 
 surprise his camp, and she flew there and cried till she 
 awakened him. He recognised the parrot, and, sus- 
 pecting some danger, called his men together to meet 
 it. Throughout the engagement the parrot hovered 
 near him, and once, when an arrow was flying towards 
 him, she interfered herself and received it. Then she 
 flew away, sorely wounded, and sank down dying in the 
 forest. The Drui-dela-kula heard her calling for water 
 and broiig'ht her a little in a leaf. As he offered it her, 
 the blood from the goddess' wounds fell on her breast; 
 and that is where you see it to-day, and that is why 
 the little brown bird's bosom is flecked with red." 
 
 Another legend tells you why the rocks of Yatutagani 
 and Yatuabron stand fronting each other, the one bare, 
 the other mantled with verdure. These are a chief and 
 a goddess who lived and loved once in the forest, but 
 
400 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 perished, when he sought to cross to her, in a flowing 
 tide. Has ever there been a Fijian Ovid? No doubt 
 he might have found many a tale like this, for these 
 stories of magical change are one touch of imagination 
 that malces the whole world kin. 
 
 The ]pijians of the present day will mostly be found 
 living in villages, buried somewhere in the forest. 
 There are nO villages on earth more beautiful. The 
 houses are usually grouped round a stretch of turf, as 
 green and level as any turf can be. The huts are 
 slightly raised on plinths of earth, and round them are 
 rows of foliage plants. Canna, croton and dracsena 
 blend or contrast with each other, helped out by 
 tobacco and kava plants that supply the, simple 
 luxuries of the country. The background is of cocoa 
 palms, and plantains, and bread-fruit trees, fringing 
 the tall and sombre forest. Behind this rise the moun- 
 tains, whose mountain streams come down to join the 
 river. There are few villages far away from a stream 
 of clear water, where old and young spend many 
 delightful' hours. 
 
 A conspicuous building is the church, a structure 
 of mat and thatch like the rest, only larger. Outside 
 it is something like a thick/ wooden canoe, which is 
 really a drum, sounded by two wooden sticks with 
 which the sides are beaten. This is the bell and belfry 
 ,of the church. There is little furniture inside it; dirty 
 mats are spread on the floor, covered on Sunday by 
 clean ones. Entering one of the houses,* the chief object 
 you win find is a bed, generally a very large one, 
 raised upon the ground on a wooden frame. There 
 are no bedclothes, but matting and pillows supply their 
 place. There may be a mosquito net hung from the 
 
THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS 401 
 
 roof; if you are going to use it yourself one is sure 
 to be produced. One or two cupboards or shelves, 
 enamelled cups and basins, a book or two; nothing 
 else, except the women's dresses hanging against the 
 wall. 
 
 The only work carried on [s cultivation ^ of the soil. 
 There are no village industries; everything the people 
 want they buy at the village shop. The principal 
 figures in society are the chief, if there is one, and the 
 village pastor. The chief is still a reality ; it is through 
 him that Government controls the district, and it is he 
 who makes arrangements for travellers. If you descend 
 upon his village some evening, in need of a night's 
 lodging, it is he who will settle which house is to" be 
 given you, and where your mats and food are to come 
 from. The pastor is an influential man, too. He is 
 also the schoolmaster of the village, and holds his little 
 school in the church every day. There, too, or in his 
 own house, he holds service morning and evening, to 
 which — ^more or less — the villagers repair. 
 
 My impression of the village pastors was quite favour- 
 able. They are all educated men, genuine centres of 
 village life, and regular in their duties. They preach 
 and pray with obvious fervour, and I am told they 
 speak with power. I heard of one -who was preaching 
 a missionary sermon on behalf of some island where a 
 station had been abandoned; while he was speaking 
 he noticed that one of the lamps had gone out, and he 
 seized on the incident as a figure of what had happened 
 and implored the audience to relight Christianity. Was 
 this less inspired than Pitt's famous Virgilian quotation : 
 
 ■ " IIU sera rubens accendit lumina vesper." 
 But, in truth, eloquence is the possession of almost 
 
 2C 
 
402 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 all savage races ; it is no less the last gift to depart when 
 civilisation perishes, and its presence does not prove the 
 presence of anything besides itself. So let us turn to 
 ask seriously, what have the Fijians gained or lost by 
 the changes of the last fifty years? 
 
 First of all, what have they lost? They have lost, 
 in the first place, the arts of life. They once made 
 pottery, they have ceased to make it; they make bark- 
 cloth, fishing apparatus, boats, and arms, they have 
 ceased to make them. European articles are better, or 
 apparently better — the Fijians have money to buy them ; 
 why should they not do so? And as they have lost 
 their useful arts, so they have lost their fine arts. They 
 have lost, thdt is to say, a frame of mind, for this is 
 the essence of fine art. They no longer make or delight 
 to make, or have the patience to make, beautiful objects. 
 They have lost the habit of industry. Did they ever 
 possess it? Without doubt, I think, in a much higher 
 degree than to-day. It has been their misfortune to be 
 too well off. The E>ritish Government has left them 
 their lands and the power of leaving their lands, and 
 the Fijian's riches have been one chief cause of their 
 ruin. 
 
 I dwell on this point because it is worth noting. The 
 case of Fiji is more truly disappointing than that of 
 any other savage race. They have had a better chance 
 than any other (save, perhaps, the Baganda). The 
 British Government has really rescued and protected 
 them ; they have received a religious system liberal and 
 well suited to their needs; they have had means and 
 time to face their problems, yet they have never made 
 any headway against them, and it seems as though the 
 very circumstances that ought to have encouraged have 
 
THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS 403 
 
 depressed them. Such a circumstance is the possession 
 of wealth ; another evil is the cessation of war. One is 
 here on debateable ground ; not everyone will agree 
 that savage war develops savage virtue. Nor can it 
 be doubted that war too long or too fierce drains away 
 the blood of nations ; but it is just as true that occasional 
 war braces and ennobles the character. It not only 
 develops courage and self-sacrifice, but it gives men a 
 basis of self-respect. If men lay aside war for peace 
 from a conviction that peace is nobler than war, their 
 self-respect is not impaired, because other achievements 
 support it; but where peace is merely imposed by 
 authority, self-respect suffers. I think this has happened 
 in Fiji — not always, but very often. 
 
 The communism of early times has not disappeared 
 as a sentiment. I cannot say precisely how it affects 
 life, but it is clearly there. Especially it prevails over 
 the distribution of food, a point on which all Pacific 
 islanders have always been sensitive. They never hesi- 
 tate to share food with each 'other, and scarcely hesitate 
 to take it whenever they see it and want it. The beach- 
 combers made the most of this sentiment, and you 
 could still to-day, as a needy European in Fiji, make 
 certain you would never starve (unless some Govern- 
 ment official or some missionary insisted upon it). Now 
 this system may have had its advantages once, but it 
 is not a system with any merits in an age of transition. 
 It discourages personal enterprise, when, whatever a 
 man makes belongs equally to the lazy and thriftless 
 circle around him. 
 
 This is an evil abundantly at work in Fiji, though, 
 by one of the usual paradoxes, the Fijian, so liberal in 
 §ome respects, is grasping in others. If the traveller 
 
404 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 has any money he is expected to part with it;" if he 
 wants to buy anything, he will be cheated in the bar- 
 gain. This, to be sure, is a Ifesson which the trader soon 
 teaches the native; unsophisticated savages, as a rule, 
 have no idea of a bargain ; the trader fleeces them 
 without mercy, and dishonesty is one of the first lessons 
 of ciyilisation. Cupidity is another, and the Fijian 
 has learned it. 
 
 I suppose, too, he has learned to be dirty and untidy 
 in his home. I know this is disputed; but I suspect it 
 is true. At any rate, nowadays, his untidiness is 
 atrocious, no less the dirt on his floor, and his habit 
 of spitting on the walls of his house. I saw one clean 
 and orderly house in Fiji, that of the Sergeant I have 
 mentioned. In one important respect good rules are 
 followed ; village privies are maintained (or something 
 like them). Captain Cook long ago mentioned that he 
 found such a thing in Fiji, " that decent article of civil 
 convenience, a privy." They might learn from the 
 Indians to clean their teeth. 
 
 The genei-al health of the islands to-day is good. 
 Government watches strictly over new arrivals, and has 
 been successful for some time in keeping out epidemics. 
 The great visitation of measles took place in the seventies, 
 when some forty thousand Fijians died of the disease. 
 Like the Athenians in the plague the victims suffered 
 from burning thirSt and fever and plunged into the 
 mountain streams and killed themselves. Nevertheless, 
 infant mortality is high, and children in general look 
 sickly. This, no doubt, is largely due to improper food. 
 Under the savage system, children are nursed at the 
 breast for as long as two years, and when they are 
 weaned they are able to face the food of their elders. 
 
THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS 405 
 
 This is rendered possible by the polygamous system, 
 which segregates nursing women from their husbands. 
 Zlhristianity, confining one husband to one wife, restores 
 :hat wife to her husband's embraces much sooner after 
 ;onfinement, and the infant is wftaned too soon. There 
 ire no patent foods amongst savages to help the process, 
 and pretty often the infant perishes. 
 
 But here we are stumbling upon the greatest and 
 least tractable of all social questions, the relation of 
 the sexes. What changes have fifty years Seen in them 
 in Fiji? This is what I cannot tell; but I will relate 
 what I heard in answer to my questions. The old 
 Fijians, I am assured, were not in the main a lustful or 
 unchaste race. Marriages took place at a mature age, 
 and ante-nuptial intercpurse was rare.* So -was married 
 infidelity. The sleeping houses of the men were separate 
 from those of the women, and most life was led under 
 the public eye. 
 
 To some extent these customs survive; the men and 
 women of the family seem to sleep in separate huts. 
 But there is not so much watch and \trard, the old women 
 have not the same inquisitorial powers, and perhaps 
 (though I am not sure of this in Fiji) the adulterer's 
 penalty was more deterrent in earlier days. At the same 
 time monogamy makes new demands on the self-restraint 
 of men, and they are sometimes unequal to them. How 
 much evil occurs I cannot say; some witnesses take a 
 despondent tone. 
 
 The same tone is taken over the decline of the Fijian 
 
 * One man — a good witness — an Englishman who was legally 
 married to a Samoan, assured me that in some islands in the 
 Pacific, notably in Samoa, ante-nuptial unchastity was severely 
 sensured, and arrangements were made resembling those of the 
 old Hebrews for proof of virginity. 
 
406 IN FOUEIGN LAKDS 
 
 population. This decline, till now very marked, has 
 lately, it is said, been arrested; but we must wait for 
 proof of that. Some reasons for it have been given 
 above ; another closely connected with them may be 
 added. The monogamous system makes one woman 
 responsible for the work of a house, which work she 
 must somehow carry out through all the stages of her 
 pregnancy. We English people know by what hard 
 shifts this is managed among our poorer classes; it is 
 not surprising that Fijian women decline the ordeal. 
 In the old days of communism, the work of the houses 
 and fields were alloted to those capable of it; nowadays, 
 this is impossible. It is a common practice amongst 
 women to meet the difficulty by abortion. The in- 
 fluence of the men is not cast against this because they 
 have no such desire for sons as when they needed them 
 in war. 
 
 These are all melancholy facts, but they must be 
 prominent in any picture of present-day Fiji. I do not 
 see how we can charge them very well to anybody; 
 except Destiny ; certainly I am not going to charge 
 them against the missionaries. The history of these 
 men throughout the Southern Seas will bear any 
 amount of inspection. It has been written elsewhere 
 for those who wish to read it; we shall not rewrite it 
 here. Yet let us pause a moment to pay a tribute to 
 those who, eighty years ago, went out to Fiji. Long 
 before modern communications were farmed, wholly 
 unsupported by the civil arm, they entered a world 
 from which they could scarcely hope to reappear, a 
 world thronged with hideous images, and, to human 
 eyes, almost void of promise. The good that we can see 
 in it now was inevitably hidden ; what everyone could 
 
THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS 407 
 
 see then, and we have almost forgotten, is the savage 
 wars, savage executions, and cannibal orgies. Un- 
 daunted by the prospect the missionaries landed; they 
 painfully possessed themselves of food and shelter, 
 grappled with novel tongues, and taught the Fijians to 
 understand and respect them. It is a mystery, still, 
 how it was done, or why, exactly, the Fijians accepted 
 Christianity. The simple narratives of the pioneers 
 throw no light on this; they saw the finger of God 
 in the change and that was all. I think myself that the 
 Fijian chiefs did, somehow, recognise a higher morality, 
 and a true impulse of self-devotion led to their con- 
 version. It was mainly through the chiefs that the 
 change came; their people obeyed their chiefs or their 
 orders. There was at first some persecution of isolated 
 converts, .but afterwards the movement was swift and 
 general. 
 
 The Fijian Islands were the ' sphere of the 
 Wesleyans, and the system of church government 
 followed theirs in England. It entrusts affairs to 
 church councils, and throws responsibility as much and 
 as soon as possible on the people. This plan was 
 certainly a generous one, and it Has been in the best 
 sense popular. It has, I think, enlisted more vigorous 
 support for religion than any other plan would have 
 done. At the present day, the Fijian church is entirely 
 self-supporting, only the personal expenses of the white 
 missionaries coming from England. 
 
 If we are to criticise the proceedings of the early 
 missionaries, we can only complain that they hardly 
 realised the many-sided effort that the reconstruction 
 of ' society would require. One sees this alike in the 
 spheres of work and amusement. They did not foresee 
 
408 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 hQw both industry and recreation would perish with 
 the old order, and how much help y^ould be needed to 
 recreate the interests of society. I suppose they had 
 Something else to do than to think of amusements, yet 
 the common man Jivirig on a lower plane than that of 
 the saint must admit, with a sigh, that life has been 
 a dull affair since the great change. Not only war has 
 gone, but all the dancing and singing and shouting 
 that enlivened peace; there is nothing stirring now. 
 One night, as May in a Fijian hut, Iiheard the sounds 
 of music from the church, and making my way there, 
 I found a company of men and women seated on the 
 ground in rows singing. What they were singing I 
 knpw not, for there was no one to tell me ; but they 
 sang full bfithely, and I seemed to catch ^n echo of the 
 past. And, ^indeed, it is so' all through the Southern 
 Seas ; the old memories linger still aild bring up images 
 of a gaiety, an " uhbought grace," that is sadly missing 
 there to-day. As for industry, the Wesleyan Mission 
 has now bestirred itself in earnest; the question of tech- 
 nical instruction has come to the front, and its im- 
 portance is on evei-y tongue. 
 
 " Christianity," said one of the missionaries to me, 
 " has given the Fijian a home." I think this was, true; 
 under the old systenl there was no such thing in his 
 world. That a man and woman should live together, 
 supporting and comforting each other, and rearing 
 their own children together, was a notion they had not 
 arrived at. The missionaries placed it before them, 
 with every hope, and every reasonable hope, that the 
 institution would be, as it has been in England, the 
 shelter of virtuous thoughts and deeds. I will not say 
 their hopes have been quite disappointed, yet progress 
 
THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS 409 
 
 has been slow and small. One sees reasons for this. 
 A home seems to need some privacy, yet the climate 
 of Fiji discourages this, and the natural bent of the 
 people rejects it. I do hot see how you can have a 
 home where all the life of the family passes in one 
 large room and strangers are always present. At any 
 rate the conventions of family life require working out 
 anew, and the Fijians have never troubled themselves 
 to do this. Their family life strikes one pretty often 
 as slipshod and make-believe. 
 
 I know little of the old heathenism of Fiji, but gather 
 that it was a sort of Shamanism, and its chief pre- 
 tension was intercourse with spirits of the dead and 
 guiding genii of the race. The practice is not extinct 
 yet. There is a secret society, the Luveniwai, which 
 holds midnight meetings, and it has its own mediums 
 and clairvoyants. I met an Englishman, born and 
 bred in Fiji, who assured me he had joined the order, 
 and I place before the reader his account of his 
 initiation. 
 
 " The ceremony took place one night in a Fijian hut. 
 You must picture this hut as an oblong building, with 
 one door at the end, and nothing inside it. There were 
 four of us in the party — myself, my sponsor, the priest, 
 and his attendant. 
 
 '' We entered the hut, closed the door, and sat down 
 in complete darkness. The priest recited an invocation, 
 in which he employed an old dialect of Fijian, now 
 extinct, known as the Mother-water dialect. When he 
 concluded, we heard a rustling in the tree above the 
 hut, a scuffling in the thatch, and a voice from the far 
 end of the room demanding his purpose. He replied' 
 that he sought an interview with the paramount spirit, 
 
410 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 and the being replied that he would summon him. 
 We heard him depart, the noises attending his arrival 
 being reversed ; and after an interval the same noises 
 announced his return. They were repeated more than 
 once, and finally were accompanied by a louder uproar 
 which heralded the paramount spirit. He, in a harsh 
 voice, demanded what a foreigner like myself sought 
 with him. My sponsor answered that not curiosity, 
 but a friendly interest in Fiji brought me there, and I 
 desired admission to the order on all conditions re- 
 quired from its members. The spirit acceded to my 
 wish, and .accepted a bowl of kava Which my sponsor 
 presented, but cautioned me that if I disclosed the 
 secrets of the order I should be chastised ' even as 
 this upright is hacked with the axe.' As he spoke, 
 the blows of an axe resounded on the far upright with 
 such force that the whole building shook. A promise 
 was then added that the axe should be entrusted to 
 my keeping, and my sponsor and myself were invited 
 to advance and take the spirit's hand. We crawled 
 forward on the mats and I took in turn the hands of 
 the spirit and his subordinate. The hand of the one 
 was bristly, with thick hairs inside it, of the other cold 
 and smooth. Both spirits then departed with the same 
 noise in the roof and trees. I returned home, and 
 found under my bed that night a hatchet of antique 
 pattern, which I still possess. The sentry at my door* 
 asserted that no one had entered my house since I left it. 
 " Next day I revisited the hut, and observed that the 
 indentations on the upright were parallel with the 
 ground, in a place where there was no room to swing 
 an axe." 
 
 * My informant was an official. 
 
THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS 411 
 
 The student of occult lore will notice some coinci- 
 dences in this tale, however he may explain it. Let 
 him disdain it if he holds there be no such things as 
 powers of the air. The belief in such is not dead in 
 Fiji; and if you wish to stir a Fiji gathering from 
 its usual calm, spill a few drops from a bowl of kava 
 before you taste it. You will perceive some uneasiness 
 abroad. Government have proscribed , the Luyeniwai, 
 perhaps not sufficiently discriminating white magic from 
 black. Black magic was known in the past, but never 
 had such a hold on people's minds as amongst the 
 negro races. 
 
 I have written of the missionaries as though the 
 Wesleyans were the only people in Fiji calling them- 
 selves Christians. Such is not the case. Nine years 
 after the Wesleyans came the priests of Rome. It has 
 ever been the wisdom of Rome to cultivate with specials 
 zeal those fields where heretics have begun to sow tares, 
 recognising that the Protestant errors, while not less 
 fatal to the soul than heathenism, are more difficult 
 to root up and more pernicious. I visited no Roman 
 mission, and can say little of their work except that 
 in Fiji it has not been very prosperous. True, the 
 noblest building in the islands is the Roman Cathedral, 
 signalised by its arches, in the one eternal style, and 
 doubly impressive because every stone of it came by 
 sea from Australia; true, there are some hundreds of 
 Roman converts, but in Fiji the Roman system is not 
 popular, and the Wesleyans triumph. It is not so 
 everywhere. In the Polynesian Islands the Roman 
 Church is advancing, and the Protestants find their 
 converts deserting them for the " Popi." Not, I fancy, 
 from any depth of conviction ; the change takes place 
 
412 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 sometimes in the reverse order, according as mission- 
 aries are personally popular, more or less strict in 
 morals or school discipline, or so on. Of the Roman 
 missionaries' zeal no one needs' to learn from me; a 
 great author has told the world the story of Father 
 Damien, I will note, without imputing motives, that 
 the policy of Rome differs in one particular from that 
 of the Wesleyans ; the latter have acquired no land in 
 the name of the mission, the former, as always and 
 everywhere, make landed property a chief resource of 
 the Church. Both plans may be defended; but credit 
 must be given to the Wesleyans for refusing an ex- 
 cellent chance of replenishing their funds. In this, as 
 also in their refusal to trade, they have proved a dis- 
 interested and self-denying spirit. 
 
 I am sorry that I cannot adorn this tale with a first- 
 hand account of the fire-walkers (for which see Mr 
 Lang's collection). I met many, however, who had 
 seen them, both in the Fiji Islands and at Raiotea in 
 the Tahiti group. The procedure is well known. A 
 pit is dug and filled with huge stones, fuel is piled 
 upon them and burned, till after several hours the 
 stones are glowing at a red heat under a layer of ashes. 
 The ashes are knocked off and the stones brought into 
 order with long poles, after which the fire-walkers march 
 across them. It does not appear they use any invoca- 
 tion or ceremony, and different accounts are given of 
 the apparent heat of the stones and the length of time 
 spent in crossing them. All witnesses agree that the 
 performers are uninjured, and all are very puzzled to 
 account for what they see. The observer who struck 
 me most was a Rationalist, who tried to believe that the 
 stones were not really very hot, and the Fijians' feet 
 
THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS 413 
 
 were very thick-skinned; but he seemed dissatisfied 
 with this view even while he put it forward. Mrs 
 Besant holds that some spirit protects the performers 
 by interposing a veil of subtle matter. What the per- 
 formers themselves say in Fiji is that once upon a time 
 their ancestors, while fishing somewhere, caught the 
 King of the Eels, and proposed to eat him, and he 
 gave this magical power as a ransom to his captors. 
 What is said in Raiotea I do not know. 
 
 The performance takes place^ once a year in Fiji ; 
 in Raiotea, and possibly in Fiji too, it can be seen by 
 command, but a high fee is charged. I met sometime 
 afterwards an impresario who had taken the fire- 
 walkers of Raiotea to San Francisco. He was very 
 bitter against the professors of California University; 
 they were all rooted sceptics, and refused even to 
 witness the performance. I told him he must look for 
 such conduct from scientific men, whose vocation pre- 
 vents them from keeping their minds open. One of 
 his troupe was a woman, whose dress caught fire as 
 she walked across the stones. 
 
 The fire-walkers of Fiji are known to fame every- 
 where, but, locally, other magical powers are beHeved 
 in and attested to. The Tongans possess incantations 
 which summon up sharks. Demand a shark from your 
 Tongan boatman and he will chant a song, which the 
 nearest shark will hear; not long afterwards you will 
 see a shark's fin showing above the water. This seems 
 a degree less credible than the fire-walker's gift; but 
 we are too apt to judge of strange things by the little 
 we know about things wholly different. 
 
 I spent most of my time, as I have said, in Viti Levu, 
 a week in Suva. It is a straggling town, streets and 
 
414 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 shops pretty good, mostly European in design. Ex- 
 penses are high, except the expense of European 
 articles sold by Europeans. 'There is a Carnegie 
 library, which rertiinds us we are not in India. But 
 Suva is no place to stay at, you must move on, to 
 Lev^ka for example, on Vanna Levu, if you want 
 another European settlement. It lies just under a 
 starry-pointing mountain, clothed with glorious verdure; 
 there is not a place of more deizzling beauty in the world. 
 It was the old European capital ; you may still meet old 
 stagers here, and listen to yarns of maritime adventure, 
 close calls in cutters and streaks of shady luck. 
 
 Levuka is a great place for hurricanes, which at 
 times afflict most of the Southern Seas. A " big blow " 
 comes once in every few years; every occupation has 
 to reckon with it, for it makes a hole in everyone's 
 profits. Everything is flattened out ; huts, trees., and 
 fields of plantains; a tremendous sea gets up, and the 
 waters invade the land. Even big ships are carried 
 inland, and never get back to sea again. Low-lying 
 islands are submerged; sometimes whole populations 
 perish. The season for these phenomena is the begin- 
 ning of the year. 
 
 I paid a brief visit to Bau, the old capital of the 
 island. It is itself a small island, separated by a 
 shallow channel from the coast. On it are groups of 
 huts and a missionary's residence; a charming and 
 peaceful scene. The ruling prince still lives here, and 
 the pretty faces of the^ Bau children remind us that, 
 in early days, the choice virgins of the island were sent 
 here for the king. I did not see the prince, who was 
 absent; he lives chiefly in the simple Fiji way, but has 
 some rooms in European style. 
 
THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS 415 
 
 It was here I tasted kava for the first time, more 
 properly known in Fiji as yaquona. This famous drink 
 is made from the roots of an ugly bush with broad 
 leaves and knotty stems that grows everywhere in the 
 Southern Seas. The roots are dried and finally pounded 
 in a mortar ; water is poured over them and the infusion 
 strained and drunk. It tastes like soap suds; but I 
 was determined to like it, and did so. Most Europeans 
 soon take (or used to take) to it ; it is certainly refresh- 
 ing, and, taken in small quantities, harmless. Men 
 are never satisfied, however, with small quantities of 
 anything, and kava in large quantities enfeebles the 
 intellect and paralyses the limbs. The missionaries, 
 therefore, frown upon its use, and pastors abstain 
 from it. 
 
 But I do not suppose that I have finished this subject 
 of kava; truly speaking I have not indeed opened it. 
 What soma was to the " Aryans," or wine to the 
 Greeks, or tobacco to the Red Man, all that kava was 
 to the Fijian. It was the symbol of hospitality, of 
 conviviality, and of all intercourse with the devas. 
 Nor was it prepared with such commonplace adjuncts 
 as a pestle and mortar; the root was chewed by girls, 
 and from their mouths it was transferred' to the sacred 
 bowl.* The infusion was made and passed round with 
 intricate ceremonies, the chiefs and the guests drank 
 in order of precedence. " Prepare the libation to the 
 chiefs of the Sokula who has died on sea or land! Be 
 
 * This procedure is now forbidden by ordinance. Nevertheless 
 I met an Ehglishman^a cultured man— who spoke with hesita- 
 tion in its favour. But he was an Englishman without and a 
 Fijian within ; truly we are a variable race. Custom rules us all, 
 said the Greeks, and a man may drift into anything. Only 
 " race prejudice " can preserve us. 
 
416 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 gracious, ye lords the gods, that the rain may cease 
 and the sun shine forth." ' 
 
 Then, again, I visited Lautoka; it was indeed, the 
 first place where I landed in Fiji. But Lautoka is not 
 Fiji of the Fijidns ; it is the chief centre of the Colonial 
 Sugar Refining Company. Here you may see, what 
 is not to be seen in India, a modern sugar-mill. My 
 memory is not charged with figures concerning its siz6 
 and power of production ; the place was really colossal, 
 if that is the final epithet to designate overwhelming 
 size. I was there in the height of the sugar-making 
 season ; trains of cane were incessantly arriving, and 
 mountains of sugar departing for New Zealand. 
 Machinery I for traction, and for crushing canes, vats 
 and separators all incessantly at work; the factory does 
 not stop in the season day or night. There is a large 
 European staff; they take a pride, in the economy of 
 their working, and boast that no factory in the world 
 loses so small a percentage of the precious crystals. 
 But I was not much enchanted with the scene ; it was 
 only a degree better than the packing houses of Chicago. ^ 
 One may grant the enterprise of the concern, and its 
 ingenuity ; it is even a legitimate business (unless those 
 are right who fliink sugar is an invention of the Enemy). - , 
 But the heat, the grime, and the uproar are intolerable; 
 and the white supervisors and the Indian coolies alike 
 are out of their element, overworked and lost to the 
 higher ends of existence. 
 
 It is time now to speak of these Indian coolies. They 
 exist in Fiji because the Fijian will riot work, in a 
 sugar-mill or anywhere else, hence the Hindu has been 
 invited to take his place. The Hindu, being civilised, 
 though he does not like work, sees the necessity for it; 
 
THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS 417 
 
 he gets himself shipped off to Fiji, eats his rice, saves 
 his one rupee a day, and rises in the world. The 
 original idea was that he should make a small fortune 
 and return to India; but once located in Fiji he has, 
 pretty often, resolved to , stay there. He has sent for 
 his woman, leased a plot of land, and started out to 
 found a Hindu society in Fiji. This society now 
 numbers about forty thousand souls. 
 
 It is at present very disorganised. Hindu institu- 
 tions do not easily travel across the sea, and, for the 
 present, the Hindus of Fiji have pretty well forgotten 
 and relinguished everything Hindu. Their children 
 scarcely know what caste is, or recognise the names 
 of Vishnu and Shiva. A few tulsi plants, a few 
 Brahman astrologers to Calculate liicky days, these 
 are all the vestiges of Hinduism I saw or heard of. 
 As a class they are well-to-do; I have seen people 
 wearing strings of sovereigns^ but their homes are poor 
 and wretched in the extreme. In the interior they keep 
 petty shops, selling biscuits, tea,, and tinned salmon to 
 the villagers. (Tinned salmon — " Ht for human con- 
 sumption." It comes from British Columbia, and is 
 sold in the heart of Fiji for fourpence half-penny a tin. 
 Curious! that the energy of several civilisations should 
 be directed to this end, the orgaiiisation of sweated 
 labour all round the globe, and the supply of bad food 
 to the lazy Fijian.) 
 
 The future of these Hindus is an interesting theihe, 
 it is part of the wide subject of the future of the 
 Southern Seas. There is no doubt that in Fiji the 
 Hindus will increase in number. They may easily, in 
 a few years, -outnumber the Fijians; while the latter, 
 so far from increasing, may perhaps decrease and dis- 
 
 2D 
 
418 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 appear. This cannot yet be considered certain; there 
 are too many Fijians still alive, and they may perhaps 
 learn to take care of themselves- At present they are 
 living in a fool's paradise. They do not realise the 
 position of their island, not with all the geography and 
 history they have been taught. They do not see that, 
 only four days from New Zealand, a, rich and empty 
 country like Fiji is not going to be left alone for ever. 
 When the British Government took over Thakombau's 
 debts, it took over also the empty lands of Fiji as a 
 Government domain. This, at least, was intended, but 
 the claim has never been pursued, and hitherto the 
 Fijians have enjoyed the _ satisfaction of owning the 
 land, leasing it to Hindus and Europeans, and spend- 
 ing the proceeds. I doubt if this is going to last for 
 ever; one of these days the Fijians will find that some- 
 how or other their title to the land is gone, and they 
 have nothing to live upon. The remedy lies in their own 
 hands; I have said before and say again, they have 
 had the best chance of all the unhappy tribes of savages. 
 European colonisation, in the strict sense, is probably 
 not going to succeed in Fiji, though there is no malaria 
 there. Dengue fever there is, and other complaints, 
 and, in general, a climate that tries a white man's blood. 
 Yet the planting community may increase and is likely 
 to do so. European children will probably, if possible, 
 go for education to New Zealand, though the European 
 schools in Fiji are good. Levuka, in particular, has 
 one of the best ordered and most inspiring schools I 
 have ever seen, and with genuine pride I beheld it. All 
 is not lost for Britain and the British name when, in 
 so remote a spot, men can be found like the headmaster 
 of the Levuka school, to give these waifs and strays a 
 
THE SOTTTH SEA ISLANDS 419 
 
 chance in the modern world. How easily disorder and 
 lethargy might have prevailed in such a place, and what 
 perseverance is needed year after year to expel them ! 
 
 At Levuka I paid a visit to the Gardens of the Sea. 
 By this name you must recognise a coral reef, as viewed' 
 from a boat gliding over it. The edge of the reef is 
 perhaps a mile from the shore ; on the seaward side it 
 sinks abruptly into deep water, while between this and 
 the shore is a lagoon where the coral grows within a 
 few inches of the surface. You need a day and an hour 
 when the water is as smooth as glass, and you can 
 look down from your boat on the branching growth 
 below you. It is very beautiful ; the living coral shows 
 a blue or rosy tip on its branches, and little fish of 
 radiant blue, " the genii of the stream," flash about 
 in its groves and thickets. 
 
 Levuka was the last place I saw in Fiji, and my last 
 acquaintance with the Melanesian. The Polynesian I 
 saw but for a moment in Rarotonga and Tahiti. For 
 a moment, therefore, let us recall him. , 
 
 His home, in these volcanic islands, is like the home 
 of the Fijian ; I have described it already. (Can it be 
 that Sicily in classic times looked something like Poly- 
 nesia?) He himself is a very different person. Slender 
 in build, olive hued rather than brown, with flowing, 
 wavy hair, he calls Adam father by some other line 
 than the Fijian. His social organisation was the same ; 
 in the arts, perchance, less inventive, in daily life he 
 was a blither creature. First impressions between him 
 and the European, seem to show mutual delight. The 
 loose morals of the women suited the European sailors ; 
 one is not surprised by the story of the Bounty. That 
 good ship, under the command of Bligh, stayed at 
 
420 m i'oiiErGN laj^bs 
 
 Tahiti to collect bread-fruit trees for the West Indies, 
 and it seems that when she left the island some of 
 her company resolved to return there and fleet away 
 the rest of their lives in the lotus land of the Southern 
 Seas. They set Bligh with a few men adrift in a boat, 
 and two of the strangest tales in history began. Read 
 them, if you will, elsewhere; they used to be read years 
 ago, and no greater feat has' ever l^een accomplished 
 than Bligh's voyage in that open boat, three thousand 
 six hundred and eighteen miles to Timor. We are 
 thinking now of the Tahitian aborigines and their 
 licentious lives. It seems the morals of Tahiti even 
 then were declining. Society was dominated by the 
 Arebi, a ■military league, which you may well contrast 
 with the orders of chivalry. Vowed to want and 
 celibacy, an inspiring ideal, the members of it came 
 to prey on their own countrymen, and passed their celi- 
 bate lives in orgies of unbridled lust. There seems to 
 be no doubt of this, and the subject is one for those 
 philosophers who would have us follow the maxim, 
 Faites ce que voudrez. Sometimes one finds something 
 attractive in the idea of flouting morality, and making 
 the pleasures of our six senses a deliberate aim. The 
 programme has even a dignity of its own. It is, how- 
 ever, just as tiresome to carry out as morality itself; 
 sensual indulgence, if not regulated by the strictest 
 prudende, ends so soon in loss of power and failure to 
 repeat its pleasures. Savages, like civilised men, have 
 made the same disappointing discovery. 
 
 In Tahiti of to-day, of course, you will not "find the 
 Areoi, nor anything else of old Tahiti. Th^ Polynesian 
 has died out more completely than the Melanesian, 
 and what Tahitiaps there are left seem to be all hybrids^ 
 
THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS 421 
 
 Some trace of their old charm fingers here and there, 
 but for the most part they look like aged paupers, 
 sitting around, waiting for death. They still love, as 
 of old, to twine flowers in their hair. 
 
 The town of Tahiti is a collection of decayed bunga- 
 lows and fetid lanes. Brothels abound. It lives, I 
 suppose, largely on visitors; many Americans make 
 the round trip from San Francisco and back; it is a 
 way Americans have to take great interest in scraps 
 of effete societies.* French officials are numerous and 
 ill-paid; French residents themselves criticise the ad- 
 ministration severely. (But then, residents everywhere, 
 under every flag, do the same.) I do not see, however, 
 why the necessaries of life should be so dear; with 
 abundant corn in New Zealand why should flour cost 
 two and a half times what it does in France? 
 
 I visited the Government school. It was attended 
 by children of every race; co-educational throughout; 
 French the only language reicognised. This policy is 
 the exact opposite of what we have followed in Fiji. 
 The school was well housed and well equipped, the 
 teacher a courteous and coinpetent man. No religion, 
 of course; plenty of moral instruction. The Roman 
 Church has a school of its own; so have the Tahiti 
 Protestants. 
 
 * But a few years ago, not twenty, a small American ship 
 reached Fiji, with a company of armed adventurers on board, 
 who proposed to occupy a South Sea island and repeat the story 
 of Pitcairn Island. They had read old history correctly, but 
 neglected recent events, thus they did not know that the grasp- 
 ing European powers had forestalled them. Not an island was 
 left. The company broke up. Nevertheless they had come so 
 fully prepared that they even had phials of poison on their 
 persons, as a last resource in case of misadventure ^mong canni- 
 bals. , ,1 
 
There stands on the beach a fine monument of 
 Rougainville ; a memorial of a time when French ex- 
 plorers all the world over led side by side with the 
 British. What has happened to the French since then 
 that they no more produce such men ? Such men have 
 not yet ceased to emerge from England, from Britain, 
 perhaps one should say. In the South Sea Mr William 
 Macgregor was the British pioneer of British influence 
 in the past century, one of those resolute ubiquitous, 
 far-sighted men who created the British Empire before 
 the days of Cecil Rhodes and " Imperialism." 
 , There are few Hindus in Tahiti, but many Chinese. 
 vSome day, perhaps, the Hindus and Chinese will divide 
 Polynesia between them; it will be interesting to see 
 which race trjtimphs when the two meet as competitors. 
 
 West of Fiji come the Papuas, the denizens of New 
 Guinea and others still more or less savages. Life is 
 not so much changed here; the ferocity of old days 
 continues, and you have still a chance of being steamed 
 on hot stones, more majorum, if you explore the New 
 Guinea jungles. New Guinea is a vast island, and 
 corners of it are still amongst the least known parts 
 of the earth. All I saw of it was fragments of art-work 
 in the Sydney curio shops. New Guinea and the 
 Solomon Islands seem to lead in art production, and 
 much of their art is in the highest vein of decorative 
 inspiration. It is kindred in style with all the art of 
 the Southern Seas, but perhaps more varied and more 
 finished. 
 
 The charm of this art is irresistible, and it is wonder- 
 ful in its combination of design, finish, and utility. 
 No workman could ever do more with stone, and 
 bone, and shells than the Polynesians have achieved. 
 
THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS 423 
 
 Museums all over the world ' bear witness to this ; 
 indeed, it is not in the islands that you will see much 
 of Polynesian art. Traders have swept them clean of 
 everything — wheedled, cheated, and bullied the people 
 out of everything. You must go to Sydney if you 
 want to recall their past and judge them as they were. 
 
 Here and there in this paper I have tried to suggest 
 such a judgment, but ultimate questions I have not tried 
 to answer. To what other branches of our race are 
 the Polynesians akin ? Shall we ever know ? Probably 
 not. The flighty speculations of the past are discredited 
 to-day; few writers say confidently that the negroes 
 or the Malays have produced the Fijian or the Tahitian. 
 We are content at present to take them as we find 
 them ; peoples with many traces of mixed blood, yet 
 united by a common culture that has few points of 
 affinity outside the Pacific. I shall leave it to the 
 Theosophists to tell us whether Lemuria survives on 
 these reefs and peaks. 
 
 It seems as though Nature had amused herself with 
 creating a continent of islands, to contrast with Asia 
 and Africa, and discourage^general views of life. Here 
 we see man at home on the sea ; the Polynesian prahus 
 answering to the caravans of Central Asia. Which was 
 the harder problem for him, the desert of Gobi, or the 
 leagues of sea that lie between Easter Island and the 
 world? Yet in Easter Island stand those giant images, 
 by some ascribed to anakim of prehistoric ages, that 
 do in truth silence all conjecture. There is one of them 
 mouldering outside the British Museum; how few that 
 see it pause to venerate its mystery I 
 
 There was no general empire of the Southern Seas. 
 Perhaps without some such phrase "civilisation " is 
 
424 IN FOREIGN LANDS 
 
 impossible. Not that empires kre exempt from mortal 
 change, but the small communities of the savage world 
 seem to rise and fall more quickly. We must, I think, 
 conceive of the islands as witnessing constant growth 
 and decline everywhere ; races (within the race) moulding 
 and asserting themselves, and perishing. The drama 
 of life is probably the same on the civilised and un- 
 civilised plane. Civilised life achieves more results — 
 at least more material ' results. Whether civilisation 
 brings morfe morality, on the whole, is doubtful, and it 
 is not at all doubtful that it brings no increase of 
 happiness. But civilisation, when it comes, is inevit- 
 able ; when Destiny deci^ees it, a race must move , on 
 and play out its drama on the higher plane. Whether 
 we reject the past or not, we cannot restore it; we can 
 only cast now and then a lingering, longing look 
 behind. And assuredly few visit the Southern 
 Seas without once and again reverting their eyes' to 
 the past. 
 
 PRINTED AT THE NORTHUMBERLAND PRESS, THORNTON STRBBT, NBWCASTLR-yPON-TVNB