i ^ }!) t> w t m i i«4 Class XSi4ilt HnnV . AAi CDpightl\l"_li?li_ COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT.' INDIA, in the time of Clive and Hastings SCALE OF MILES 50 100 ?00 300 400 500 Zbc Xaftc jenglieb Claeeice MACAULAY'S ESSAYS ON CLIVE AND HASTINGS EDITED FOR SCHOOL USE ALPHONSO G. NEWCOMER PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH IN THE LELAND STANFORD JUNIOR UNIVERSITY CHICAGO SCOTT, -FORESMAN AND COMPANY ) ^0^ Copyright 1909 By SCOTT, FORESMAN AND COMPANY (©Ci.A25l'24(> PEEFACE. Julius Caesar and Lord Macaulay have been much abused writers. They did not mean to write immortal works, least of all did they mean to write immortal exercises for the school-room. But when a man writes just as he would fight on the field of battle or in the political arena, with what Quintilian describes as "force, point, and vehemence of style,^' he must expect the school-boy to linger over his pages. This is right, this is not abuse; the abuse is done when live literature is transformed into dead rhetoric, a thing for endless exercises in etymologies and constructions, until the very name of the author becomes odious. Perhaps it is late for this complaint; we flatter ourselves that we are coming to reason and balance in our methods. Certainly I should not try to discourage study, and liberal study, of the mechanics of composition. And there is no better medium for such study than Macaulay^s essays. But I trust that every teacher to whom the duty of conducting such study falls will not at the same time forget that literature is an art which touches life very closely, and has its springs far back in the human spirit. With the hope of encouraging this attitude I have been willing to assume the responsibility of making yet another annotated text of Macaulay. Eealizing that, in dealing with a writer whose work touches the domain 5 6 PEEFACE of pure literature chie% by virtue of its manner* there is no escape from considerations of style, I have frankly put the matter foremost. But I have tried to take a broad view of its significance, and in particular I have tried to do Macaulay justice. Altogether too many pupils have carried away from the study of him the narrow idea that his great achievement consisted in using one or two very patent (but, if they only knew it, very petty) rhetorical devices. It has been the pri- mary aim of my Introduction to set these matters in their right perspective. I have not outlined specific methods of study, which are to be found everywhere by those who value them, but both Introduction and Notes contain many suggestions. It seems better to stop at this. Even the few illustrations I have used have been preferably drawn from essays not here printed. No editor should wish to take from teacher or pupil the profit of investigation or the stimulus of discovery. There is another matter in which I should like to counsel vigilance, and that is the habit of requiring pupils to trace allusions, quotations, etc. The practice has been much abused, and. a warning seems especially necessary in the study of a writer like Macaulay, who crowds his pages with instances and illustrations. It is profitable to follow him in the process of bringing together a dozen things to enforce his point, but it is not profitable to reverse the process and allow our- selves to be led away from the subject in hand into a multitude of imrelated matters. Such practices are ruinous to the intellect. We must concentrate attention, not dissipate it. Only when we fail to catch the full *Cf Introduction, section 19. PBEFACE 7 significance of an allusion, should we look it up. Then we must see to it that we bring back from our research just what occasioned the allusion, just what bears on the immediate passage. Other facts will be picked up by the way and may come useful in good time, but for the purpose of our present study we should insist on the vital relation of every fact contributed. So earliest am I upon this point that I must illustrate. At one place Macaulay writes: "Do we believe that Erasmus and Fracastorius wrote Latin as well as Dr. Eobertson and Sir Walter Scott wrote English? And are there not in the Dissertation on India^ the last of Dr. Robertson's works, in Waverleij, in Marmion, Scotticisms at which a London apprentice would laugh?" Why should we be told (to pick out One of these half-dozen allusions) that Dr. Eobertson's first name was William, that he lived from 1721 to 1793, and that he wrote such and such books? With all respect for the memory of Dr. Eobertson, I submit that this is not the place to learn about him and his histories. Macaulay's allusion to him is not explained in the least b}^ giving his date. Yet there is something here to interpret, simple though it be. Let us put questions until we are sure that the pupil understands that Dr. Eobertson, being a Scot, did not write wholly idiom- atic English— English, say, of the London type — and that this is one illustration of the general truth that a man can write with purity only in his native tongue. It is such exercises in interpretation that I should like to see substituted for the disastrous game of hunting allusions. jSTo doubt many apparent departures from this prin- 8 PEEFACE ciple will be found in my notes and glossary. For instance, at the beginning of the essay on Lord Clive we are told that "every schoolboy knows who impris- oned Montezuma, and who strangled Atahualpa." For the editor to proceed at once to give this information looks like climbing very solemnly on the pedant's stool. But every schoolboy does not know, and so the informa- tion is given. Yet, speaking as a teacher, I doubt whether I should try to make the boy learn it, since he probably would not remember facts acquired in such a remote relation. I should be more concerned to make sure that he realizes just what Macaulay here in every sen- tence is trying to impress upon his English readers, namely, that a conquest of a far-away people by an alien race has very unreasonably aroused more interest than a similar conquest made by their own. It is an appeal to British pride. It is a rhetorical bid for interest in the story he is about to tell. The primary aim of the glossary is to include only names and terms not familiar or not easily found, and then to give only such information as is to the point. Doubtless it sometimes goes beyond this ; yet the general principle should hold, that when allusions are self- explaining we should rest content with our text. A. G. N. Stanford University^ California, August, 1909. CONTENTS. PAGE Preface 5 ixtroduction 11 Chronology and Bibliography 37 The Essays : lord clive 39 warren hastings 140 Notes 281 Glossary 295 INTEODUCTION. When, in 1825, Francis Jeffrey, Editor of the Edinburgh Review, searching for "some clever young ^ ., , , A^ nian who would write for ns,'^ laid 1. Macaulay's Ad- ^ vent in the Edin- his hands upon Thomas Babington burgh Review. Macaulay, he did not know that he was marking a red-letter day in the calendar of English journalism. Through the two decades and more of its existence, the Review had gone on serving its patrons with the respectable dulness of Lord Brougham and the respectable vivacity of its editor, and the patrons had apparently dreamed of nothing better until the mo- mentous August when the young Fellow of Trinity, not yet twenty-five, flashed upon its pages with his essay on Milton. x\nd for the next two decades the essays that followed from the same pen became so far the mainstay of the magazine that booksellers declared it "sold, or did not sell, according as there were, or were not, articles by Mr. Macaulay." Yet Jeffrey was not without some inkling of the significance of the event, for upon receipt of the first manuscript he wrote to its author the words so often quoted : "The more I think, the less I can conceive where you picked up that style.'^ Thus early was the finger of criticism pointed toward the one thing that has always been most conspicuously associated with Macaulay's name. 11 12 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS English prose, at this date, was still clinging to the traditions of its measured eighteenth-century stateliness. 2. Effect on Prose. ^^\ *^^ ^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^J g^^^ ^^^ of it, and the formalism which sat so elegantly upon Addison and not uneasily upon Johnson had stiffened into pedantry, scarcely re- lieved by the awkward attempts of the younger journalists to give it spirit and freedom. It was this languishing prose which Macaulay, perhaps more than any other one writer, deserves the credit of rejuvenating with that wonderful something which Jeffrey was pleased to call "style." Macaulay himself would cer- tainly have deprecated the association of his fame with a mere synonym for rhetoric, and we should be wrong- ing him if we did not hasten to add that stjde, rightly understood, is a very large and significant thing, com- prehending, indeed, a man's whole intellectual and emotional attitude toward those phases of life with which he comes into contact. It is the man's manner of reacting upon the world, his manner of expressing himself to the world; and the world has little beyond the manner of a man's expression by which to judge of the man himself. A good style, even in the narrower sense of a good command of language, of a masterly and individual manner of presenting thought, is no mean accomplishment, and if Macaulay had done noth- ing else than revivify English' prose, which is, just pos- sibly, his most enduring achievement, he would have little reason to complain. What he accomplished in this direction and how, it is our chief purpose here to ex- plain. In the meantime we shall do well to glance at INTEODUCTION 13 his other achievements and take some note of his equipment. Praed has left this description of him : "There came up a short, manly figure, marvelously upright, with a bad neckcloth, and one hand in his waistcoat-pocket." We read here, easily enough, brusqueness, precision without fastidious- ness, and self-confidence. These are all prominent traits of the man, and they all show in his work. Add kind- ness and moral rectitude, which scarcely show there, and humor, which shows only in a somewhat unpleasant light, and you have a fair portrait. Now these are manifestly the attributes of a man who knows what worldly comfort and physical well-being are, a man of good digestive and assimilative powers, well-fed, incapa- ble of worry, born to succeed. In truth, Macaulay was a man of remarkable vitality and energy, and though he died too early — at the beginning of his sixtieth year — ^he began his work young and continued it with almost unabated vigor to the end. But his "work" (as we are in the habit of naming that which a man leaves behind him), volum- inous as it is, represents only one side of his activity. There was the early-assUmed burden of repairing his father's broken fortunes, and providing for the family of younger brothers and sisters. The burden, it is true, was assumed with characteristic cheerfulness — it could not destroy for him the worldly comfort we have spoken of — but it entailed heavy responsibilities for a young man. It forced him to seek salaried positions, such as the post of commissioner of bankruptcy, when he might have been more congenially employed. Then 14 • oMACAULAY 'S ESSAYS there were the many years spent in the service of the government as a Whig member of the House of Com- mons and as Cabinet Minister during the exciting period of the Eeform Bill and the Anti-Corn-Law League, with all that such service involved — study of politics, canvassing, countless dinners, public and private, speech- making in Parliament and out, reading and making reports, endless committee meetings, endless sessions. There were the three years and a half spent in India, drafting a penal code. And there was, first and last, the acquisition of the knowledge that made possible this varied activity, — the years at the University, the study of law and jurisprudence, the reading, not of books, but of entire national literatures, the ransacking of libraries and the laborious deciphering of hundreds of manuscripts in the course of historical research. Perhaps this is falling into Macaulay's trick of exaggera- tion, but it is not easy to exaggerate the mental feats of a man who could carry in his memory works like Paradise Lost and Pilgrim's Progress and who was able to put it on record that in thirteen months he had read thirty classical authors, most of them entire and many of them twice, and among them such voluminous writers as Euripides, Herodotus, Plato, Plutarch, Livy, and Cicero. Nor was the classical literature a special field with him ; Italian, Spanish, French and the wildernesses of the English drama and the English novel (not exclud- ing the ^^trashy'^) were all explored. We may well be astounded that the man who could do all these things in a lifetime of moderate compass, and who was besides such a tireless pedestrian that he was "forever on his INTRODUCTION 15 feet indoors as well as out," could find time to produce so much literature of his own. That literature divides itself into at least five divi- sions. There are, first, the Essays, which he produced at intervals all throusjh life. There 4. His Work. ^^ a i It, t are the ISpeeclies which were de- livered on the floor of Parliament between his first election in 1830 and his last in 1852, and which rank very high in that grade of oratory which is just below the highest. There is the Indian Penal Code, not altogether his own work and not literature of course, yet praised by Justice Stephen as one of the most remarkable and satisfactory instruments of its kind ever drafted. There are the Poems, published in 1842, adding little to his fame and not a great deal to English literature, yet very respectable achievements in the field of the modem romantic ballad. Finally, there is the unfinished History of England from the Accession of James the Second, his last, his most ambitious, and probably, all things considered, his most successful work. The History and Essays comprise virtually all of this product that the present generation cares to read. 5. History of Upon the History, indeed, Macaulay England. staked his claim to future remem- brance, regarding it as the great work of his life. He was exceptionally well equipped for the undertaking. He had such a grasp of universal history as few men have been able to secure, and a detailed knowledge of the period of English history under contemplation equalled by none. But he delayed the undertaking too ^Q MACAULAY'S ESSAYS long, and he allowed his time and energy to be dissi- pated in obedience to party calls. Death overtook him in the midst of his labors. Even thus, it is clear that he underestimated the magnitude of the task he had set Mmself. For he proposed to cover a period of nearly a century and a half; the four volumes and a fraction which he completed actually cover about fifteen years. His plan involved too much detail. It has been called pictorial history writing, and such it was. History was to be as vital and as human as romance. It was to be in every sense a restoration of the life of the past. Macaulay surely succeeded in this aim, as his fascinating third chapter will always testify; whether the aim were a laudable one, we cannot stop here to discuss. Historians will continue to point out the defects of the work, its diffuseness, its unphilosophical character, per- haps its partisan spirit. But it remains a magnificent fragment, and it will be read by thousands who could never be persuaded to look into dryer though possibly sounder works. Indeed, there is no higher tribute to its greatness than the objection that has sometimes been brought against it — namely, that it treats a compara- tively unimportant era of England's history with such fulness and brilliance, and has attracted to it so many readers, that the other eras are thrown sadly out of perspective. But Macaulay's name is popularly associated with that body of essays which in bulk alone (always excepting Sainte-Beuve's) are scarcely Essays. exceeded by the product of any other essay-writer in an essay-writing age. And the popular judgment which has insisted upon holding to this sup- INTKODUCTION 17 posedly ephemeral work is not far wrong. With all their faults upon them, until we have something better in kind to replace them, we cannot consent to let them go. In one sense, their range is not wide, for they fall naturally into but two divisions, the historical and the critical. To these Mr. Morison* would add a third, the controversial, comprising the four essays on Mill, Sadler, Southey, and Gladstone; but these are com- paratively unimportant. In another sense, however, their range is very wide. For each one gathers about a central subject a mass of details that in the hands of any other writer would be bewildering, while the total knowledge that supports the bare array of facts and perpetual press of allusions betrays a scope that, to the ordinary mind, is quite beyond comprehension. And the more remarkable must this work appear when we consider the manner of its production. Most of the essays were published anonymously in the Edinburgh Review, a few early ones in Knight^s Quarterly Maga- zine, five (those on Atterbury^ Bunyan, Goldsmith, Johnson, and Pitt), written late in life, in the Ency- clopcedia Britannica. The writing of them was always an avocation with Macaulay, never a vocation. Those produced during his parliamentary life were usually written in the hours between early rising and breakfast. Some were composed at a distance from his books. He scarcely dreamed of their living beyond the quarter of their publication, certainly not beyond the generation for whose entertainment they were written with all the devices to catch applause and all the disregard of permanent merit which writing for such a purpose *J. Cotter Morison: Macaulay. 18 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS invites. He could scarcely be induced, even after they were pirated and republished in America, to reissue them in a collected edition, with his revision and under his name. These facts should be remembered in mitiga- tion of the severe criticism to which they are sometimes subjected. Between the historical and the critical essays we are not called upon to decide, though the decision is by no means difficult. Macaulay was essentially a historian, a story-teller; and the historical essay, or short mono- graph on the events of a single period, such as often group themselves about some great statesman or soldier, he made peculiarly his own. He did not invent it, as Mr. Morison points out, but he expanded and improved it until he "left it complete and a thing of power." Fully a score of his essays — more than half the total number — are of this description, the most and the best of them dealing with English history. Chief among them are the essays on Hallam, Temple, the Pitts, Clive, and Warren Hastings. The critical essays — upon John- son, Addison, Bunyan, and other men of letters — are in every way as attractive reading as the historical. They must take a lower rank only because Macaulay lacked some of the primary requisites of a successful critic — broad and deep sympathies, refined tastes, and nice perception of the more delicate tints and shadings that count for almost everything in a work of high art. His critical judgments are likely to be blunt, positive, and superficial. But they are never actually shallow and rarely without a modicum of truth. And they are never uninteresting. For, true to his narrative instinct, he always interweaves biography. And besides, the INTEODUCTION 19 essays have the same rhetorical qualities that marK with distinction all the prose he has written, that is to say, the same masterly method and the same compelling style. It is to this method and style that, after our rapid review of Macanlay^s aims and accomplishments, we are now ready to turn. There were two faculties of Macaulay^s mind that set his work far apart from other work in the same 7. Organizing field — ^the faculties of organization Faculty. g^-j^^ illustration. He saw things in their right relation and he knew how to make others see them thus. If he was describing, he never thrust minor details into the foreground. If he was narrating, he never "got ahead of his story." The importance of this is not sufficiently recognized. Many writers do not know what organization means. They do not know that in all great and successful literary work it is nine- tenths of the labor. Yet consider a moment. History is a very complex thing: divers events may be simul- taneous in their occurrence ; or one crisis may be slowly evolving from many causes in many places. It is no light task to tell these things one after another and yet leave a unified impression, to take up a dozen new threads in succession without tangling them and without losing the old ones, and to lay them all down at the right moment and without confusion. Such is the nar-' rator^s task, and it was at this task that Macaulay proved himself a past master. He could dispose of a number of trivial events in a single sentence. Thus, for example, runs his account of the dramatist Wycherley's naval career: "He embarked, was present 20 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS at a battle, and celebrated it, on his return, in a copy of verses too bad for the bellman/^ On the other hand, when it is a question of a great crisis, like the impeach- ment of Warren Hastings, he knew how to prepare for it with elaborate ceremony and to portray it in a scene of the highest dramatic power. This faculty of organization shows itself in what we technically name structure; and logical and rhetorical structure may be studied at their very best in his work. His essays are perfect units, made up of many parts, systems within systems, that play together without clog or friction. You can take them apart like a watch and put them together again. But try to rearrange the parts and the mechanism is spoiled. Each essay has its subdivisions, which in turn are groups of paragraphs. And each paragraph is a unit. Take the first paragraph of the essay on Clive : the words little interest appear in the first sentence, and the word insipid in the last; clearly the paragraph deals with a single very definite topic. And so with all. Of course the unity manifests itself in a hundred ways, but it is rarely wanting. Most frequently it takes the form of an expansion of a topic given in the first sentence, or a preparation for a topic to be announced only in the last. These initial and final sentences — often in themselves both aphoristic and memorable — serve to mark with the utmost clear- ness the different stages in the progress of the essay. niustration is of more incidental service, but as used by Macaulay becomes highly organic. For his illustra- 8. Illustrating tions are not far-fetched or laboriously Faculty. worked out. They seem to be of one piece with his story or argument. His mind was quick INTKODUCTION 31 to detect resemblances and analogies. He was ready with a comparison for everything, sometimes with half a dozen. For example, Addison's essays, he has occa- sion to say, were different every day of the week, and yet, to his mind, each day like something — like Horace, like Lucian, like the "Tales of Scheherezade." He draws long comparisons between Walpole and Town- shend, between Congreve and Wycherley, between Essex and Yilliers, between the fall of the Carlovingians and the fall of the Moguls. He follows np a general state- ment with swarms of instances. Have historians been given to exaggerating the villainy of Machiavelli? Macanlay can name yon half a dozen who did so. Did the writers of Charles's faction delight in making their opponents appear contemptible? "They have told ns that Pym broke down in a speech, that Ireton had his nose pulled by Hollis, that the Earl of Northumberland cudgelled Henry Marten, that St. John's manners were sullen, that Yane had an ugly face, that Cromwell had a red nose." Do men fail when they quit their own province for another? Newton failed thus; Bentley failed; Inigo Jones failed; Wilkie failed. In the same way he was ready with quotations. He writes in one of his letters : "It is a dangerous thing for a man with a very strong memory to read very much. I could give you three or four quotations this moment in sup- port of that proposition; but I will bring the vicious propensity under subjection, if I can." Thus we see his mind doing instantly and involuntarily what other minds do with infinite pains, bringing together all things that have a likeness or a common bearinsf. 22 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS Both of these faculties, for organization and for illus- tration, are to be partially explained by his marvelous memory. As we have seen, he read everything, and he seems to have been incapable of forgetting anything. The immense advan- tage which this gave him over other men is obvious. He who carries his library in his mind wastes no time in turning up references; and surveying the whole field of his knowledge at once, with outlines and details all in immediate range, he should be able to see things in their natural perspective. Of course it does not follow that a great memory will always enable a man to systematize and synthesize, but it should make it easier for its possessor than for other men, while the power of ready illustration which it affords him is beyond question. It is precisely these talents that set Macaulay among the simplest and clearest of writers, and that account 10. Clearness and for mucli of his popularity. People Simplicity. found that in taking up one of his articles they simply read on and on, never puzzling over the meaning of a sentence, getting the exact force of every statement, and following the trend of thought with scarcely a mental effort. And his natural gift of making things plain he took pains to support by various devices. He constructed his sentences after the simplest normal fashion, subject and verb and object, sometimes inverting for emphasis, but rarely complicating, and always reducing expression to the barest terms. He could write, for example, "One advantage the chaplain had/' but it is impossible to conceive of his writing. INTEODUCTION 23 "Kow amid all the discomforts and disadvantages with which the imfortnnate chaplain was surrounded, there was one thing which served to offset them, and which, if he chose to take the opportunity of enjoying it, might well be regarded as a positive advantage/' One will search his pages in vain for loose, trailing clauses and involved constructions. His vocabulary was of the same simple nature. He had a complete command of ordinary English and contented himself with that. He rarely ventured beyond the most abridged dictionary. An occasional technical term might be required, but he was shy of the unfamiliar. He would coin no words and he would use no archaisms. Foreign words, when fairly naturalized, he employed sparingly. "We shall have no disputes about diction,'^ he wrote to ISTapier, Jeffrey's successor; ^'the English language is not so poor but that I may very well find in it the means of contenting both you and myself." Now all of these things are wholly admirable, and if they constituted the sum total of Macaulay's method, as they certainly do constitute the chief features of it, we should give our word of praise and have done. But he did not stop here, and often, unfortunately too often, these things are not thought of at all by those who profess to speak knowingly of his wonderful "style." For in addition to clearness he sought also force, an entirely legitimate object in itself and one in which he was merely giving way to his oratorical or journalistic instinct. Only, his fondness for effect led him too far and into various mannerisms, some of which it is quite impossible to 24: MACAULAY^S ESSAYS approve. There is no question but that they are;, as they were meant to be, powerfully effective, often rightly so, and they are exceedingly interesting to study, but for these very reasons the student needs to be warned against attaching to them an undue importance. Perhaps no one will quarrel with his liking for the specific and the concrete. This indeed is not man- nerism. It is the natural working 12. Concreteness. ^ ,i • • , • ■ n . ^. 01 the imagmative mmd, oi the pic- turing faculty, and is of the utmost value in forceful, vivid writing. The "ruffs and peaked beards of Theo- bald^s^^ make an excellent passing allusion to the social life of the time of Queen Elizabeth and James the First. The manoeuvres of an army become intensely inter- esting when we see it "pouring through those wild passes which, worn by mountain torrents and dark with jungle, lead down from the table-land of Mysore to the plains of the Carnatic.'^ A reference to the reputed learning of the English ladies of the sixteenth century is most cunningly put in the picture of "those fair pupils of Ascham and Aylmer who compared, over their embroidery, the styles of Isocrates and Lysias, and who, while the horns were sounding, and the dogs in full cry, sat in the lonely oriel, with eyes riveted to that immortal page which tells how meekly the first great martyr of intellectual liberty took the cup from his weeping gaoler." But when his eagerness for the concretely picturesque leads him to draw a wholly imaginary picture of how it may have come about that Addison had Steele arrested for debt, we are quite ready to protest. INTEODUCTION 25 His tendency to exaggerate, moreover, and his love of paradox, belong in a very different category. Let the reader count the strong words, 13. Exaggeration. ... . , ... superlatives, universal propositions, and the like, employed in a characteristic passage, and he will understand at once what is meant. In the essay on Frederic the Great we read: "Xo sovereign has ever taken possession of a throne by a clearer title. All the politics of the Austrian cabinet had, during twenty years, been directed to one single end — the set- tlement of the succession. From every person whose rights could be considered as injuriously affected, renunciations in the most solemn form had been ob- tained." And not content with the ordinary resources of language, he has a trick of raising superlatives them- selves, as it were, to the second or third power. "There can be little doubt that this great empire was, even in its best days, far worse governed than the worst gov- erned parts of Europe now are." "What the Italian is to the Englishman, what the Hindoo is to the Italian^ what the Bengalee is to other Hindoos, that was N'uncomar to other Bengalees." It is evident that this habit is a positive vice. He tried to excuse it on the ground that there is some inevitable loss in the commu- nication of a fact from one mind to another, and that over-statement is necessary to correct the error. But the argument is fallacious. Macaulay did not have a monopoly of the imaginative faculty; other men are as much given to exaggeration as he, and stories, as they pass from mouth to mouth, invariably "grow." His constant resort to antithesis to point his state- 26 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS ments is another vice. "That government/^ he writes 14. Antithesis and ^^ *^^ English rule in India, "op- Baiance. pressive as the most oppressive form of barbarian despotism, was strong with all the strength of civilization." Again: "The Puritan had affected formality; the comic poet laughed at decorum. The Puritan had frowned at innocent diversions ; the comic poet took under his patronage the most flagitious ex- cesses. The Puritan had canted; the comic poet blas- phemed." And so on, through a paragraph. Somewhat similar to this is his practice of presenting the contrary of a statement before presenting the statement itself, of telling us, for example, what might have been ex- pected to happen before telling us what actually did happen. It is to be noticed that, accompanying this use of antithesis and giving it added force, there is usually a balance of form, that is, a more or less exact correspondence of sentence structure. G-iven one of Macaulay^s sentences presenting the first part of an antithesis, it is sometimes possible to foretell, word for word, what the next sentence will be. Such mechanical writing is certainly not to be commended as a model of style. Of course it is the abuse of these things and not the mere use of them that constitutes Macaulay^s vice. There are still other formal devices which he uses so freely that we are justified in calling them man- nerisms. One of the most conspicuous* is the short sentence, the blunt, un- qualified statement of one thing at a time. No one who knows Macaulay would hesitate over the authorship of the following: "The shore was rocky; the night INTRODUCTION 37 was black; the wind was furious; the waves of the Bay of Biscay ran high." The only wonder is that he did not punctuate it with four periods. He would apparently much rather repeat his subject and make a new sentence than connect his verbs. Instead of writ- ing, "He coaxed and wheedled," he is constantly tempted to write, "He coaxed, he wheedled," even though the practice involves prolonged reiteration of one form. This omission of connectives — "asyndeton" — may easily become a vice. The ands^ fhens, therefores, how- evers, the reader must supply for himself. This demands alertness and helps to sustain interest; and while it may occasion a momentary perplexity, it will rarely do so when the reader comes to know the style and to read it with the right swing. But it all goes to enforce what Mr. John Morley calls the "unlovely staccato" of the style. It strikes harsh on the ear and on the brain, and from a piquant stimulant becomes an intolerable weari- ness. Separate things get emphasis, but the nice gradation and relations are sacrificed. After all, though we stigmatize these things as ^"^devices," intimating that they were mechanical and arbitrary, we must resrard them as 16. Dogmatism. ,, ' , ^ i,r i ? partly temperamental. Macauiay s mind was not subtle in its working and was not given to making nice distinctions. He cared chiefly for bold outlines and broad effects. Truth, to his mind, was sharply defined from falsehood, right from wrong, good from evil. Everything could be divided from every- thing else, labelled, and pigeon-holed. And he was very certain, in the fields which he chose to enter, that he knew where to draw the dividing line. Positiveness, 28 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS self-conficlence, are written ail over his work. Set for a moment against his metliod the metliod of Matthew Arnold. This is how Arnold tries to point out a defect in modern English society: "And, owing to the same causes, does not a subtle criticism lead us to make, even on the good looks and politeness of our aristo- cratic class, and even of the most fascinating half of that class, the feminine half, the one qualifying remark, that in these charming gifts there should perhaps be, for ideal perfection, a shade more soulf Note the careful approach, the constant, anxious qualification, working up to a climax in the almost painful hesitation of "a shade — more — soul." Imagine, if you can, Macaulay, the rough rider, he of the "stamxping em- phasis," winding into a truth like that. But indeed it is quite impossible to imagine Macaulay's having any truth at all to enunciate about so ethereal an attribute as this same soul. We have come well into the region of Macaulay's defects. Clearness, we have seen, he had in a remark- 17. Ornament, able degree. Force he also had in a Rhythm. remarkable degree, though he fre- quently abused the means of displaying it. But genuine beauty, it is scarcely too much to say, he had not at all. Of course, much depends upon our definitions. We do not mean to deny to his writings all elements of charm. The very ease of his mastery over so many resources of composition gives pleasure to the reader. His frequent picturesqueness we have granted. He can be genuinely figurative, though his figures often incline to showiness. And above all he has a certain sense for rhythm. He can write long, sweeping sen- INTEODUCTION 29 tences — periods that rise and descend with feeling, and that come to a stately or graceful close. The sen- tence cited above about the learning of women in the sixteenth century may be taken as an example. Or read the sketch of the Catholic Church in the third paragraph of the essay on Von Eanke's History of the Popes, or the conclusion of the essay on Lord Holland, or better still the conclusion of the somewhat juvenile essay on Mitford^s Greece, with its glowing tribute to Athens and its famous picture of the "single naked fisherman washing his nets in the river of the ten thousand masts." But at best it is the rhythm of mere declamation, swinging and pompous. There is no fine flowing movement, nothing like the entrancing glides of a waltz or the airy steps of a minuet, but only a steady march to the interminable and monotonous beat of the drum. For real music, sweetness, subtle and involved harmony, lingering cadences, we turn to any one of a score of prose writers — Sir Thomas Browne, Addison, Burke, Lamb, De Quincey, Hawthorne, .Kuskin, Pater, Stevenson — before we turn to Macaulay. ^N^or is there any other mere grace of composition in which he can be said to excel. There is no blame in the matter. We are only trying to note dispassionately the defects as well as the excel- 18. Tempera- Icnces of a man who was not a uni- mentai Defects, versal genius. It would be easy to point out much greater defects than any yet mentioned, defects that go deeper than style. One or two indeed we are obliged to mention. There is the strain of coarseness often to be noted in his writing, showing itself now in an abusive epithet, now in a vulgar catch- 30 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS word, now in a sally of humor bordering on the ribald. It is never grossly offensive, but it is none the less wounding to delicate sensibility. Then there is the Philistine attitude, which Mr. Arnold spent so much of his life in combating, the attitude of the complacent, self-satisfied Englishman, who sees in the British con- stitution and the organization of the British empire the best of all possible governments, and in the material and commercial progress of the age the best of all possible civilizations. And there is the persistent refusal to treat questions of really great moral significance upon any kind of moral basis. The absolute right or wrong of an act Macaulay will avoid discussing if he possibly can, and take refuge in questions of policy, of sheer profit and loss. We need not blame him severely on even these serious shortcomings. On the first point we remember that he was deliberately playing to his audience, consciously writing down to the level of his public. On the second we realize that he was a practical politician and that he never could have been such with the idealism of a Carlyle or a Ruskin. And on the third we remember that his own private life was one of affectionate sacrifice and his public life abso- lutely stainless. He could vote away his own income when moral conviction demanded it. Besides, even when he was only arguing, "policy" was always on the side of the right. What blame is left? Only this — that he should have pandered to any public, compromis- ing his future fame for an ephemeral applause, and that he should have so far wronged the mass of his readers as to suppose that arguments based upon policy would be more acceptable to them than arguments based INTEODUCTION 31 upon sound moral princii3les. That he was something of a Philistine and not wholly a ''child of light/' may be placed to his discount but not to his discredit. The total indictment is small and is mentioned here only in the interests of impartial criticism. It remains only to sum up the literary significance of Macaulay's work. Nearly all of that work, we must 19. Literary remember, lies outside of the field of Significance. what we know as "pure literature." Pure literature — poetry, drama, fiction — is a pure artistic or imaginative product with inspiration or entertainment as its chief aim. Though it may instruct incidentally, it does not merely inform. It is the work of creative genius. Macaulay's essays were meant to inform. Char- acters and situations are delineated in them, but not created. History and criticism are often not literature at all. They become literature only by revealing an imaginative insight and clothing themselves in artistic form. Macaulay's essays have done this; they engage the emotions as well as the intellect. They were meant for records, for storehouses of information; but they are also works of art, and therefore they live intact while the records of equally industrious but less gifted historians are revised and replaced. Thus by their artistic quality, their style, they are removed from the shelves of history to the shelves of literature. It becomes plain, perhaps, why at the outset we spoke of style. One hears little about Shakespeare's style, or Scott's, or Shelley's. Where there are matters of larger interest — character, dramatic situations, passion, \oity conceptions, abstract truth — there is little room for attention to so superficial a quality, or rather to a 32 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS quality that has some such superficial aspects. But in the work of less creative writers, a purely literary interest, if it be aroused at all, must centre chiefly in this. And herein lies Macaulay's significance to the literary world to-day. Upon the professional writers of that world, as dis- tinct from the readers, his influence has been no less than 20. Influence on profound, partly for evil, but chiefly, Journalism. ^,g ^j^i^k (Mr. Morley notwithstand- ing), for good. His name was mentioned at the beginning of our sketch in connection with journalism. It is just because the literary development of our age has moved so rapidly along this line, that Macaulay^s influence has been so far-reaching. The journalist must have an active pen. He cannot indulge in medi- tation while the ink dries. He cannot stop to arrange and rearrange his ideas, to study the cadence of his sentences, to seek for the unique or the suggestive word. What Macaulay did was to furnish the model of just such a style as would meet this need — ready, easy, rapid, yet never loose or obscure. He seems to have found his way by instinct to all those expedients which make writing easy — short, direct sentences, common- place words, constant repetition and balance of form, adapted quotations, and stock phrases from the Bible or Prayer-Book, or from the language of the professions, politics, and trade. This style he impressed upon a generation of journalists that was ready to receive it and keenly alive to its value. But the word "journalist" is scarcely broad enough to cover the class of writers here meant. For the class includes, in addition to the great "press tribe" from editor INTRODUCTION 33 to reporter and reviewer, every writer of popular litera- ture, every one who appeals to a miscellaneous public, who undertakes to make himself a medium between special intelligence and general intelligence. And there are thousands of these wTiters to-day — in editorial chairs, on magazine staffs, on political, educational, and scientific commissions — who are consciously or uncon- sciously employing the convenient tinstrument which Macaulay did so much toward perfecting eighty years ago. The evidence is on every hand. One listens to a lecture by a scientist who, it is quite possible, never read a paragraph of Macaulay, and catches, before long, words like these: "There is no reversal of nature's processes. The world has come from a condition of things essentially different from the present. It is moving toward a condition of things essentially different from the present." Or one turns to an editorial in a daily paper and reads : "It will be ever thus with all the move- ments in this country to which a revolutionary inter- pretation can be attached. The mass and body of the people of the United States are a level-headed, sober- minded people. They are an upright and a solvent people. They love their government. They are proud of their government. Its credit is dear to them. En- listed in its cause, party lines sag loose upon the voters or disappear altogether from their contemplation." The ear-marks are very plain to see. We would not make the mistake of attributing too many and too large effects to a single cause. Life and art are very complex matters and the agencies at work are quite beyond our calculation. There is always dan- ger of exaggerating the importance of a single influence. 34 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS The trend of things is not easily disturbed — the history of the world never yet turned upon the cast of a die or the length of a woman's nose. In spite of Jeffrey's testimony — and it cannot be lightly brushed aside — ^we are not ready to give Macaulay the whole credit for inventing this style. N'or do we believe that journalism would be materially different from what it is to-day, even though Macaulay had never written a line. But it does not seem too much to admit that the first vigorous impulse came from him and that the manner is deservedly associated with his name. In itself, as has been pointed out, it is not a beautiful thing. It is a thing of mannerisms, and some of these we have not hesitated to call vices. From the point of view of literature they are vices, blemishes on the face of true art. But the style is useful none the less. The ready writer is not concerned about beauty, he does not profess to be an artist. He has intelligence to convey, and the simplest and clearest medium is for his purpose the best. He will continue to use this serviceable medium nor trouble himself about its "unlovely staccato" and its gaudy tinsel. Meanwhile the literary artist may pursue his way in search of a more elusive music and a more iridescent beauty, satisfied with the tithe of Macaulay's popularity if only he can attain to some measure of his own ideals. But Macaulay himself should be remembered for his real greatness. The facile imitator of the tricks of his 21. Real Great- pen should beware of the ingratitude ness. Qf assuming that these were the meas- ure of his mind. These vices are virtues in their place, but they are not high virtues, and they are not the INTEODUCTION 35 virtues that made Macaulay great. His greatness lay in the qualities that we have tried to insist upon from the first, qualities that are quite beyond imitation, the power of bringing instantly into one mental focus the accumulations of a prodigious memory, and the range of vision, the grasp of detail, and the insight into men, measures, and events, that enabled him to reduce to beautiful order the chaos of human history. CHEONOLOGY AND BIBLIOGKAPHY 1800. Macaul?y born, Oct. 25, at Eothley Temple, Leieestersliire. 1818. Entered Trinity College, Cambridge. (B. A., 1822; M. A., 1825.) 1823. Began contributing to Knight's Quarterly Maga- zine. 1824. Elected Fellow of Trinity. 1825. Began contributing to Edinburgh Review. 1826. Called to the Bar. 1830. Entered Parliament. 1831. Speeches on Eeforni Bill. 183-4. AYent to India as member of the Supreme Council. 1837. Indian Penal Code. 1838. Eeturned to England. Tour in Italy. 1839. Elected to Parliament for Edinburgh. Secretary at AYar. 1842. Lays of Ancient Eome. 1843. Collected edition of Essays. 1848. History of England, vols. i. and ii. (Vols. iii. and iv. 1855; vol. v. 1861.) 1852. Failure in health. 1857. Made Baron Macaulay of Eothlej^ 1859. Died Dec. 28. (Interred in Westminster Abbey.) 37 38 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS The standard edition of Macanlay's works is that edited by his sister, Lady Trevelyan, in eight volumes, and published at London, 1866 ; reprinted at New York, by Harper Bros. The authorized biography is that by his nephew, G. 0. Trevelyan, a book which is exceedingly interesting and which takes high rank among English biographies. J. Cotter Morison's life in the English Men of Letters series is briefer, is both biographical and critical, and is in ever}^ way an admirable work. There are also the articles in the Encyclopcedia Britannica, by Mark Pattison, and in the Dictionary of National Biography, by Sir Leslie Stephen. The best critical essays are those by Sir Leslie Stephen in Hours in a Library, by Mr. John Morley in Miscellwnies, and by Walter Bagehot in Literary Studies, LORD CLIVE {January 1840) The Life of Boiert Lord Clive'; collected from the Family Papers, communicated by the Earl of Powis. By Major- General Sir John Malcolm, K.C.B. P> vols. 8vo. Lon- don; 1836. We have always thought it strange that, while the history of the Spanish empire in America is familiarly known to all the nations of Europe, the great actions of our countrymen in the East should, even among our- 5 selves, excite little interest. Every schoolboy knows who imprisoned Montezuma, and who strangled Atahualpa. But we doubt whether one in ten, even among English gentlemen of highly cultivated minds, can tell who won the battle of Buxar, who perpetrated the massacre of 10 Patna, whether Sujah Dowlah ruled in Oude or in Travancore, or whether Holkar was a Hindoo or a Mus- sulman. Yet the victories of Cortes were gained over savages who had no letters, who were ignorant of the use of metals, who had not broken in a single animal 15 to labour, who wielded no better weapons than those which could be made out of sticks, flints, and fish-bones, who regarded a horse-soldier as a monster, half man and half beast, who took a harquebusier for a sorcerer, able to scatter the thunder and lightning of the 20 skies. The people of India, when we subdued them, were ten times as numerous as the Americans whom the Spaniards vanquished, and were at the same time quite as highly civilized as the victorious Spaniards. They had 40 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS reared cities larger and fairer than Saragossa or Toledo, and buildings more beautiful and costly than the cathe- dral of Seville. They could show bankers richer than the richest firms of Barcelona or Cadiz, viceroys whose splendour far surpassed that of Ferdinand the Catholic, 5 myriads of cavalry and long trains of artillery which would have astonished the Great Captain. It might have been expected, that every Englishman who takes any interest in any part of history would be curious to know how a handful of his countrymen, separated from lo their home by an immense ocean, subjugated, in the course of a few years, one of the greatest empires in the world. Yet, unless we greatly err, this subject is, to most readers, not only insipid, but positively distasteful. Perhaps the fault lies partly with the historians. 15 Mr. MilFs book, though it has undoubtedly great and rare merit, is not sufficiently animated and picturesque to attract those who read for amusement. Orme, in- ferior to no English historian in style and power of painting, is minute even to tedi oneness. In one volume 20 he allots, on an average, a closely printed quarto page to the events of every forty-eight hours. The conse- quence is, that his narrative, though one of the most authentic and one of the most finely written in our language, has never been very popular, and is now 25 scarcely ever read. We fear that the volumes before us will not much attract those readers whom Orme and Mill have re- pelled. The materials placed at the disposal of Sir John Malcolm by the late Lord Powis were indeed of 30 great value. But we cannot say that they have been very skilfully worked up. It would, however, be unjust to criticise with severity a work which, if the author had lived to complete and revise it, would probably have been improved by condensation and by a better 35 LOED CLIVE 41 arrangement. We are more disposed to perform the pleasing duty of expressing our gratitude to the noble family to which the public owes so much useful and curious information. 5 The effect of the book, even when we make the largest allowance for the partiality of those who have fur- nished and of those who have digested the materials, is, on the whole, greatly to raise the character of Lord Clive. We are far indeed from sympathising with Sir 10 John Malcolm, whose love passes the love of biogra- phers, and who can see nothing but wisdom and justice in the actions of his idol. But we are at least equall}^ far from concurring in the severe judgment of Mr. Mill, who seems to us to show less discrimination in 15 his account of Clive than in any other part of his valuable work. Clive, like most men who are born with strong passions and tried by strong temptations, committed great faults. But every person who takes a fair and enlightened view of his whole career must 20 admit that our island, so fertile in heroes and statesmen, has scarcely ever produced a man more truly great either in arms or in council. The Clives had been settled, ever since the twelfth century, on an estate of no great value, near Market- 25 Drayton, in Shropshire. In the reign of George the First this moderate but ancient inheritance was pos- sessed by Mr. Eichard Clive, who seems to have been a plain man of no great tact or capacity. He had been bred to the law, and divided his time between profes- 30 sional business and the avocations of a small pro- prietor. He married a lady from Manchester, of the name of Gaskill, and became the father of a very numerous family. His eldest son, Eobert, the founder of the British empire in India, was born at the old seat 42 MACAULAY^S ESSAYS of his ancestors on the twenty-ninth of September, 1725. Some lineaments of the character of the man were early discerned in the child. There remain letters written by his relations when he was in his seventh 5 year; and from these letters it appears that, even at that early age, his strong will and his fiery passions, sustained by a constitutional intrepidity which some- times seemed hardly compatible with soundness of mind, had begun to cause great uneasiness to his fam- 10 ily. "Fighting," says one of his uncles, "to which he is out of measure addicted, gives his temper such a fierceness and imperiousness, that he flies out on ever}^ trifling occasion." The old people of the neighbourhood still remember to have heard from their parents how 15 Bob Clive climbed to the top of the lofty steeple of Market-Drayton, and with what terror the inhabitants saw him seated on a stone spout near the summit. They also relate how he formed all the idle lads of the town into a kind of predatory army, and compelled 20 the shopkeepers to submit to a tribute of apples and half -pence, in consideration of which he guaranteed the security of their windows. He was sent from school to school, making very little progress in his learning, and gaining for himself everywhere the character of 25 an exceedingly naughty boy. One of his masters, it is said, was sagacious enough to prophesy that the idle lad would make a great figure in the world. But the general opinion seems to have been that poor Eobert was a dunce, if not a reprobate. His family expected 30 nothing good from such slender parts and such a headstrong temper. It is not strange therefore, that they gladly accepted for him, when he was in his eighteenth year, a writership in the service of the East LOED CLIVE 43 India Company, and shipped him off to make a fortune or to die of a fever at Madras. Far different were the prospects of Clive from those of the youths whom the East India College now an- 5 nually sends to the Presidencies of our Asiatic empire. The Company was then purely a trading corporation. Its territory consisted of a few square miles, for which rent was paid to the native governments. Its troops were scarcely numerous enough to man the batteries 10 of three or four ill-constructed forts, which had been erected for the protection of the warehouses. The na- tives, who composed a considerable part of these little garrisons, had not yet been trained in the discipline of Europe, and were armed, some with swords and 15 shields, some with bows and arrows. The business of the servant of the Company was not, as now, to conduct the judicial, financial, and diplomatic business of a great country, but to take stock, to make advances to weavers, to ship cargoes, and above all to keep an eye 20 on private traders who dared to infringe the monopoly. The younger clerks were so miserably paid that they could scarcely subsist without incurring debt ; the elder enriched themselves by trading on their own account; and those who lived to rise to the top of the service 25 often accumulated considerable fortunes. Madras, to which Clive had been appointed, was, at this time, perhaps, the first in importance of the Com- pany's settlements. In the preceding century Fort St. George had arisen on a barren spot beaten by a 30 raging surf ; and in the neighbourhood of a town, inhab- ited by many thousands of natives, had sprung up, as towns spring up in the East, with the rapidity of the prophet's gourd. There were already in the suburbs many white villas, each surrounded by its garden, 85 whither the wealthy agents of the Company retired, 44 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS after the labours of the desk and the warehouse, to enjoy the cool breeze which springs up at sunset from the Bay of Bengal. The habits of these mercantile grandees appear to have been more profuse, luxurious, and ostentatious, than those of the high judicial and 5 political functionaries who have succeeded them. But comfort was far less understood. Many devices which now mitigate the heat of the climate, preserve health, and prolong life, were unknown. There was far less intercourse with Europe than at present. The voyage lo by the Cape, which in our time has often been per- formed within three months, was then very seldom accomplished in six, and was sometimes protracted to more than a year. Consequently, the Anglo-Indian was then much more estranged from his country, much more 15 addicted to Oriental usages, and much less fitted to mix in society after his return to Europe, than the Anglo-Indian of the present day. Within the fort and its precinct, the English exer- cised, by permission of the native government, an 20 extensive authority, such as every great Indian land- owner exercised within his own domain. But they had never dreamed of claiming independent power. The surrounding country was ruled by the Nabob of the Carnatic, a deputy of the Viceroy of the Deccan, com- 25 monly called the Nizam, who was himself only a deputy of the mighty prince designated by our ancestors as the Great Mogul. Those names, once so august and for- midable, still remain. There is still a Nabob of the Carnatic, who lives on a pension allowed to him by 30 the English out of the revenues of the provinces which his ancestors ruled. There is still a Nizam, whose capital is overawed by a British cantonment, and to whom a British resident gives, under the name of advice, commands which are not to be disputed. There 35 LORD CLIVE 45 is still a Mogul, Avho is permitted to play at holding courts and receiving petitions, but who has less power to help or hurt than the youngest civil servant of the Company. 5 dive's voyage was unusually tedious even for that age. The ship remained some months at the Brazils, where the young adventurer picked up some knowledge of Portuguese, and spent all his pocket-money. He did not arrive in India till more than a year after he 10 had left England. His situation at Madras was most painful. His funds were exhausted. His pay was small. He had contracted debts. He was wretchedly lodged, no small calamity in a climate which can be made tolerable to an European only by spacious and 15 well placed apartments. He had been furnished with letters of recommendation to a gentleman who might have assisted him; but when he landed at Fort St. George he found that this gentleman had sailed for England. The lad's shy and haughty disposition with- 20 held him from introducing himself to strangers. He was several months in India before he became ac- quainted with a single family. The climate affected his health and spirits. His duties were of a kind ill- suited to his ardenc and daring character. He pined 25 for his home, and in his letters to his relations ex- pressed his feelings in language softer and more pensive than we should have expected either from the wayward- ness of his boyhood, or from the inflexible sternness of his later years. "I have not enjoyed," says he, "one 30 happy day since I left my native country" ; and again, "I must confess, at intervals, when I think of my dear native England, it affects me in a very peculiar man- ner. ... If I should be so far blest as to revisit again ' my own country, but more especially Manchester, the 46 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS centre of all my wishes, all that I could hope or desire ^ for would be presented before me in one view." One solace he found of the most respectable kind. The Governor possessed a good library, and permitted Clive to have access to it. The young man devoted 5 much of his leisure to reading, and acquired at this time almost all the knowledge of books that he ever possessed. As a boy he had been too idle, as a man he soon became too busy, for literary pursuits. But neither climate nor poverty, neither study nor 10 the sorrows of a home-sick exile, could tame the des- perate audacity of his spirit. He behaved to his official superiors as he had behaved to his schoolmasters, and he was several times in danger of losing his situation. Twice, while residing in the Writers' Buildings, he 15 attempted to destroy himself ; and twice the pistol which he snapped at his own head failed to go off. This circumstance, it is said, affected him as a similar escape affected Wallenstein. After satisfying himself that the pistol was really well loaded, he burst forth into an 20 exclamation that surely he was reserved for something great. About this time an event which at first seemed likely to destroy all his hopes in life suddenly opened before him a new path to eminence. Europe had been, during 25 some years, distracted by the war of the Austrian suc- cession. George the Second was the steady ally of Maria Theresa. The house of Bourbon took the oppo- site side. Though England was even then the first of maritime powers, she was not, as she has since 30 become, more than a match on the sea for all the nations of the world together; and she found it difficult to maintain a contest against the united navies of France and Spain. In the eastern seas France obtained the ascendency. Labourdonnais, governor of Mauritius, a 85 LORD CLIVE 47 man of eminent talents and virtues, conducted an expe- dition to the continent of India in spite of the oppo- sition of the British fle«t, landed, assembled an army, appeared before Madras, and compelled the town and 5 fort to capitulate. The keys were delivered up ; the French colours were displayed on Fort St. George; and the contents of the Company's warehouse were seized as prize of war by the conquerors. It was stipulated by the capitulation that the English inhabitants should 10 be prisoners of war on parole, and that the town should remain in the hands of the French till it should be ransomed. Labourdonnais pledged his honour that only a moderate ransom should be required. But the success of Labourdonnais had awakened the 15 jealousy of his countryman, Dupleix, governor of Pondicherry. Dupleix, moreover, had already begun to revolve gigantic schemes, with which the restoration of Madras to the English was by no means compatible. He declared that Labourdonnais had gone beyond his 20 powers ; that conquests made by the French arms on the continent of India were at the disposal of the governor of Pondicherry alone; and that Madras should be razed to the ground. Labourdonnais was compelled to yield. The anger which the breach of the capitulation 25 excited among the English was increased by the ungen- erous manner in which Dupleix treated the principal servants of the Company. The Governor and several of the first gentlemen of Fort St. George were carried under a guard to Pondicherry, and conducted through 30 the town in a triumphal procession under the eyes of fifty thousand spectators. It was with reason thought that this gross violation of public faith absolved the inhabitants of Madras from the engagements into which they had entered with Labourdonnais. Clive fled from 35 the town by night in the disguise of a Mussulman, 48 MAC AUL AY'S ESSAYS and took refuge at Fort St. David, one of the small English settlements subordinate to Madras. The circumstances in which he was now placed nat- urally led him to adopt a profession better suited to his restless and intrepid spirit than the business of 5 examining packages and casting accounts. He solicited and obtained an ensign's commission in the service of the Company, and at twenty-one entered on his military career. His personal courage, of which he had, while still a writer, given signal proof by a desperate duel lo with a military bully who was the terror of Fort St. David, speedily made him conspicuous even among hun- dreds of brave men. He soon began to show in his new calling other qualities which had not before been discerned in him, judgment, sagacity, deference to i5 legitimate authority. He distinguislied himself highly in several operations against the French, and was par- ticularly noticed by Major Lawrence, who was then considered as the ablest British officer in India. Clive had been only a few months in the army when 20 intelligence arrived that peace had been concluded between Great Britain and France. Dupleix was in consequence compelled to restore Madras to the English Company; and the young ensign was at liberty to resume his former business. He did indeed return for 25 a short time to his desk. He again quitted it in order to assist Major Lawrence in some petty hostilities with the natives, and then again returned to it. While he was thus wavering between a military and a commercial life, events took place which decided his choice. The 3ij politics of India assumed a new aspect. There was peace between the English and French Crowns; but there arose between the English and French Companies trading to the East a war most eventful and important, LOED CLIVE 49 a war in which the prize was nothing less than the magnificent inheritance of the house of Tamerlane. The empire which Baber and his Moguls reared in the sixteenth century was long one of the most extensive 5 and splendid in the world. In no European kingdom was so large a population subject to a single prince, or so large a revenue poured into the treasury. The beauty and magnificence of the buildings erected by the sovereigns of Hindostan amazed even travellers who had 10 seen St. Peter's. The innumerable retinues and gor- geous decorations which surrounded the throne of Delhi dazzled even eyes which were accustomed to the pomp of Versailles. Some of the great viceroys who held their posts by virtue of commissions from the Mogul 15 ruled as many subjects as the King of France or the Emperor of Germany. Even the deputies of these depu- ties might well rank, as to extent of territory and amount of revenue, with the Grand Duke of Tuscan}-, or the Elector of Saxony. 20 There can be little doubt that this great empire, pow- erful and prosperous as it appears on a superficial view, was yet, even in its best days, far worse governed than the worst governed parts of Europe now are. The administration was tainted with all the vices of Oriental 25 despotism, and with all the vices inseparable from the domination of race over race. The conflicting preten- sions of the princes of the royal house produced a long series of crimes and public disasters. Ambitious lieuten- ants of the sovereign sometimes aspired to independence. 30 Fierce tribes of Hindoos, impatient of a foreign yoke, frequently withheld tribute, repelled the armies of the government from the mountain fastnesses, and poured down in arms on the cultivated plains. In spite, how- ever, of much constant maladministration, in spite of 35 occasional convulsions which shook the whole frame of 50 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS society, this great monarchy, on the whole, retained, during some generations, an outward appearance of unity, majesty, and energy. But, throughout the long reign of Aurungzebe, the state, notwithstanding all that the vigour and policy of the prince could effect, was 5 hastening to dissolution. After his death, which took place in the year 1707, the ruin was fearfully rapid. Violent shocks from without co-operated with an in- curable decay which was fast proceeding within; and in a few years the empire had undergone utter lo decomposition. The history of the successors of Theodosius bears no small analogy to that of the successors of Aurungzebe. But perhaps the fall of the Carlovingians furnishes the nearest parallel to the fall of the Moguls. Charlemagne 15 was scarcely interred when the imbecility and the dis- putes of his descendants began to bring contempt on themselves and destruction on their subjects. The wide dominion of the Franks was severed into a thousand pieces. N'othing more than a nominal dignity was left 20 to the abject heirs of an illustrious name, Charles the Bald, and Charles the Fat, and Charles the Simple. Fierce invaders, differing from each other in race, lan- guage, and religion, flocked, as if by concert, from the farthest corners of the earth, to plunder provinces which 25 the government could no longer defend. The pirates of the Northern Sea extended their ravages from the Elbe to the Pyrenees, and at length fixed their seat in the rich valley of the Seine. The Hungarian, in whom the trembling monks fancied that they recognised the Gog 30 or Magog of prophecy, carried back the plunder of the cities of Lombardy to the depths of the Pannonian forests. The Saracen ruled in Sicily, desolated the fertile plains of Campania, and spread terror even to the walls of Eome. In the midst of these sufferings, a 35 LOED CLIVE 51 great internal change passed upon the empire. The corruption of death began to ferment into new forms of life. While the great body, as a whole, was torpid and passive, every separate member began to feel with 5 a sense and to move with an energy all its own. Just here, in the most barren and dreary tract of European history, all feudal privileges, all modern nobility, take their source. It is to this point, that we trace the power of those princes who, nominally vassals, but really 10 independent, long governed, with the titles of dukes^, marquesses, and counts, almost every part of the dominions which had obeyed Charlemagne. Such or nearly such was the change which passed on the Mogul empire during the forty years w^hich 15 followed the death of Aurungzebe. A succession of nominal sovereigns, sunk in indolence and debauchery, sauntered away life in secluded palaces, chewing bang, fondling concubines, and listening to buffoons. A suc- cession of ferocious invaders descended through the 20 western passes, to prey on the defenceless wealth of Hindostan. A Persian conqueror crossed the Indus, marched through the gates of Delhi, and bore away in triumph those treasures of which the magnificence had astounded Eoe and Bernier, the Peacock Throne, on 25 which the richest jewels of Golconda had been disposed by the most skilful hands of Europe, and the ines- timable Mountain of Light, which, after many strange vicissitudes, lately shone in the bracelet of Runjeet Sing, and is now destined to adorn the hideous idol of Orissa. 30 The Afghan soon followed to complete the work of the devastation which the Persian had begun. The war- like tribes of Eajpootana threw off the Mussulman yoke. A band of mercenary soldiers occupied Eohilcund. The Seiks ruled on the Indus. The Jauts spread dismay 35 along the Jumna. The highlands which border on the 52 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS western sea-coast of India poured forth a yet more for- midable race, a race which was long the terror of every native power, and which, after many desperate and doubtful struggles, yielded only to the fortune and genius of England. It was under the reign of 5 Aurungzebe that this wild clan of plunderers first de- scended from their mountains ; and soon after his death, every corner of his wide empire learned to tremble at the mighty name of the Mahrattas. Many fertile viceroyalties were entirely subdued by them. Their lo dominions stretched across the peninsula from sea to sea. Mahratta captains reigned at Poonah, at Gualior, in Guzerat, in Berar, and in Tanjore. Nor did they, though they had become great sovereigns, therefore cease to be freebooters. They still retained the preda- 15 tory habits of their forefathers. Every region which was not subject to their rule was wasted by their incur- sions. Wherever their kettle-drums were heard, the peasant threw his bag of rice on his shoulder, hid his small savings in his girdle, and fled with his wife and 20 children to the mountains or the jungles, to the milder neighbourhood of the hyena and the tiger. Many provinces redeemed their harvests by the payment of an annual ransom. Even the wretched phantom who still bore the imperial title stooped to pay this igno- 25 minious black-mail. The camp-fires of one rapacious leader were seen from the walls of the palace of Delhi. Another, at the head of his innumerable cavalry, descended year after year on the rice-fields of Bengal. Even the European factors trembled for their maga- 30 zines. Less than a hundred years ago, it was thought necessary to fortify Calcutta against the horsemen of Berar, and the name of the Mahratta ditch still pre- • serves the memory of the danger. Wherever the viceroys of the Mogul retained authority 35 LOED CUVE 53 they became sovereigns. They might still acknowledge in words the superiority of the house of Tamerlane; as a Count of Flanders or a Duke of Burgundy might have acknowledged the superiority of the most helpless 5 driveller among the later Carlovingians. They might occasionally send to their titular sovereign a compli- mentary present, or solicit from him a title of honour. In truth, however, they were no longer lieutenants removable at pleasure, but independent hereditary 10 princes. In this way originated those great Mussulman houses which formerly ruled Bengal and the Carnatic, and those which still, though in a state of vassalage, exercise some of the powers of royalty at Lucknow and Hyderabad. 15 In what was this confusion to end? Was the strife to continue during centuries? Was it to terminate in the rise of another great monarchy? Was the Mussul- man or the Mahratta to be the Lord of India? Was another Baber to descend from the mountains, and to 20 lead the hardy tribes of Cabul and Chorasan against a wealthier and less warlike race ? None of these events seemed improbable. But scarcely any man, however sagacious, would have thought it possible that a trading company, separated from India by fifteen thousand 25 miles of sea, and possessing in India only a few acres for purposes of commerce, would, in less than a hun- dred years, spread its empire from Cape Comorin to the eternal snow of the Himalayas; would compel Mahratta and Mahommedan to forget their mutual 30 feuds in common subjection; would tame down even those wild races which had resisted the most powerful of the Moguls; and, having united under its laws a hundred millions of subjects, would carry its victorious arms far to the east of the Burrampooter, and far to 35 the west of the Hydaspes, dictate terms of peace at the 54 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS gates of Ava, and seat its vassal on the throne of Candahar. The man who first saw that it was possible to found an European empire on the ruins of the Mogul mon- archy was Dupleix. His restless, capacious, and in- 5 ventive mind had formed this scheme, at a time when the ablest servants of the English Company were busied only about invoices and bills of lading. Nor had he only proposed to himself the end. He had also a just and distinct view of the means by which it was to be lo attained. He clearly saw that the greatest force which the princes of India could bring into the field would be no match for a small body of men trained in the discipline, and guided by the tactics, of the West. He saw also that the natives of India might, under 15 European commanders, be formed into armies, such as Saxe or Frederic would be proud to command. He was perfectly aware that the most easy and convenient way in which an European adventurer could exercise sovereignty in India, was to govern the motions, and 20 to speak through the mouth of some glittering puppet dignified by the title of Nabob or Nizam. The arts both of war and policy, which a few years later were employed with such signal success by the English, were first understood and practised by this ingenious and 25 aspiring Frenchman. The situation of India was such that scarcely any aggression could be without a pretext, either in old laws or in recent practice. All rights were in a state of utter uncertainty ; and the Europeans who took part 30 in the disputes of the natives confounded the confusion, by applying to Asiatic politics the public law of the West, and analogies drawn from the feudal system. If it was convenient to treat a Nabob as an independent prince, there was an excellent plea for doing so. He 35 LOED CLIVE . 55 was independent, in fact. If it was convenient to treat him as a mere deputy of the Court of Delhi, there was no difficulty; for he was so in theory. If it was con- venient to consider his office as an hereditary dignity, 5 or as a dignity held during life only, or as a dignity held only during the good pleasure of the Mogul, argu- ments and precedents might be found for every one of those views. The party who had the heir of Baber in their hands, represented him as the undoubted, the 10 legitimate, the absolute- sovereign, whom all subordinate authorities were bound to obey. The party against whom his name was used did not want plausible pre- texts for maintaining that the empire was in fact dissolved, and that, though it might be decent to treat 15 the Mogul with respect, as a venerable relic of an order of things which had passed away, it was absurd to regard him as the real master of Hindostan. In the year 1748, died one of the most powerful of the new masters of India, the great ISTizam al Mulk, 20 Viceroy of the Deccan. His authority descended to his son, Nazir Jung. Of the provinces subject to this high functionary, the Carnatic was the wealthiest and the most extensive. It was governed by an ancient N'abob, whose name the English corrupted into Anaverdy 25 Khan. But there were pretenders to the government both of the viceroyalty and of the subordinate province. Mirzapha Jung, a grandson of Xizam al Mulk, ap- peared as the competitor of Xazir Jung. Chunda 30 Sahib, son-in-law of a former N'abob of the Carnatic, disputed the title of Anaverdy Khan. In the unsettled state of Indian law it was easy for both Mirzapha Jung and Chunda Sahib to make out something like a claim of right. In a society altogether disorganized, they had 35 no difficulty in finding greedy adventurers to follow 56 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS their standards. They united their interests, invaded the Carnatic, and applied for assistance to the French, whose fame had been raised by their success against the English in a recent war on the coast of Coromandel. Nothing could have happened more pleasing to the 5 subtle and ambitious Dupleix. To make a Nabob of the Carnatic, to make a Viceroy of the Deccan, to rule under their names the whole of Southern India; this was indeed an attractive prospect. He allied him- self with the pretenders, and sent four hundred French lo soldiers, and two thousand sepoys, disciplined after the European fashion, to the assistance of his confederates. A battle was fought. The French distinguished them- selves greatly. Anaverdy Khan was defeated and slain. His son, Mahommed Ali, who was afterwards well 15 known in England as the Nabob of Arcot, and who owes to the eloquence of Burke a most unenviable im- mortality, fled with a scanty remnant of his army to Trichinopoly ; and the conquerors became at once masters of almost every part of the Carnatic. 20 This was but the beginning of the greatness of Dupleix. After some months of fighting, negotiation and intrigue, his ability and good fortune seemed to have prevailed everywhere. Nazir Jung perished by the hands of his own followers ; Mirzapha Jung was 25 master of the Deccan; and the triumph of French arms and French policy was complete. At Pondicherry all was exultation and festivity. Salutes were fired from the batteries, and Te Deum sung in the churches. The new Nizam came thither to visit his allies; and so the ceremony of his installation was performed there with great pomp. Dupleix, dressed in the garb worn by Mahommedans of the highest rank, entered the town in the same palanquin with the Nizam, and, in the pageant which followed, took precedence of all the court. 35 LOED CLIVE 57 He was declared Governor of India from the river Kristna to Cape Comorin, a country about as large as France, with authority superior even to that of Chunda Sahib. He was intrusted with the command of seven 5 thousand cavalry. It was announced that no mint would be suffered to exist in the Carnatic except that at Pondicherry. A large portion of the treasures which former Viceroys of the Deccan had accumulated had foimd its way into the coffers of the French governor. 10 It was rumoured that he had received two hundred thousand pounds sterling in money, besides many val- uable jewels. In fact, there could scarcely be any limit to his gains. He now ruled thirty millions of people with almost absolute power. Wo honour or 15 emolument could be obtained from the government but by his intervention. Xo petition, unless signed by him, was perused by the Nizam. Mirzapha Jung survived his elevation only a few months. But another prince of the same house was 20 raised to the throne by French influence, and ratified all the promises of his predecessor. Dupleix was now the greatest potentate in India. His countrymen boasted that his name was mentioned with awe even in the chambers of the palace of Delhi. The native 25 population looked with amazement on the progress which, in the short space of four years, an European adventurer had made toward dominion in Asia. I^or was the vainglorious Frenchman content with the reality of power. He loved to display his greatness with arro- 30 gairt ostentation before the eyes of his subjects and of his rivals. Near the spot where his policy had obtained its chief triumph, by the fall of Nazir Jung, and the elevation of Mirzapha, he determined to erect a column, on the four sides of which four pompous 35 inscriptions, in four languages, should proclaim his 5S MACArLAY'S ESSAYS glory to all the nations of the East. Medals stamped with emblems of his successes were buried beneath the foundations of his stately pillar, and round it arose a town bearing the haughty name of Dupleix Fatihabad, which is, being interpreted, the City of the Victory of 5 Dupleix. The English had made some feeble and irresolute attempts to stop the rapid and brilliant career of the rival Company, and continued to recognise Mahommed Ali as Nabob of the Carnatic. But the dominions of lO Mahommed Ali consisted of Trichinopoly alone; and Trichinopoly was now invested by Chunda Sahib and his French auxiliaries. To raise the siege seemed im- possible. The small force which was then at Madras had no commander. Major Lawrence had returned 15 to England; and not a single officer of established character remained in the settlement. The natives had learned to look with contempt on the mighty nation which was soon to conquer and to rule them. They had seen the French colours flying on Fort St. George ; 20 they had seen the chiefs of the English factory led in triumph through the streets of Pondicherry; they had seen the arms and counsels of Dupleix everywhere suc- cessful, while the opposition which the authorities of Madras had made to his progress, had served only to 25 expose their own weakness, and to heighten his glory. At this moment, the valour and genius of an obscure English youth suddenly turned the tide of fortune. Clive was now twenty-five years old. After hesitating for some time between a military and a commercial 30 life, he had at length been placed in a post which par- took of both characters, that of commissary to the troops, with the rank of captain. The present emergency called forth all his powers. He represented to his superiors that unless some vigorous effort were made, 35 LOED CIJVE 59 Trichinopoly would fall, the house of Anaverdy Khan would perish, and the French would become the real masters of the whole peninsula of India. It was abso- lutely necessary to strike some daring blow. If an 5 attack were made on Arcot, the capital of the Camatic, and the favourite residence of the N'abobs, it was not impossible that the siege of Trichinopoly would be raised. The heads of the English settlement, now thoroughly alarmed by the success of Dupleix, and 10 apprehensive that, in the event of a new war between France and Great Britain, Madras would be instantly . taken and destroyed, approved of Clivers plan, and intrusted the execution of it to himself. The young captain was put at the head of two hundred English 15 soldiers, and three hundred sepoys, armed and disci- plined after the European fashion. Of the eight officers who commanded this little force under him, only two had ever been in action, and four of the eight were factors of the Company, whom Clivers example had 20 induced to offer their services. The weather was stormy; but Clive pushed on, through thunder, light- ning, and rain, to the gates of Arcot. The garrison, in a panic, evacuated the fort, and the English entered it without a blow. 25 But Clive well knew that he should not be suffered to retain undisturbed possession of his conquest. He instantly began to collect provisions, to throw up works, and to make preparations for sustaining a siege. The garrison, which had fled at his approach, had now 30 recovered from its dismay, and, having been swelled by large reinforcements from the neighbourhood to a force of three thousand men, encamped close to the town. At dead of night, Clive marched out of the fort, attacked the camp by surprise, slew great numbers, dispersed the 60 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS rest, and returned to his quarters without having lost a single man. The intelligence of these events was soon carried to Chunda Sahib, who, with his French allies, was be- sieging Trichinopoly. He immediately detached four 5 thousand men from his camp, and sent them to Arcot. They were speedily joined by the remains of the force which Clive had lately scattered. They were further strengthened by two thousand men from Vellore, and by a still more important reinforcement of a hundred M and fifty French soldiers whom Dupleix despatched from Pondicherry. The whole of his army, amounting to about ten thousand men, was under the command of Eajah Sahib, son of Chunda Sahib. Eajah Sahib proceeded to invest the fort of Arcot, 15 which seemed quite incapable of sustaining a siege. The walls were ruinous, the ditches dry, the ramparts too narrow to admit the guns, the battlements too low to protect the soldiers. The little garrison had been greatly reduced by casualties. It now consisted of a 20 hundred and twenty Europeans and two hundred sepoys. Only four officers were left; the stock of provisions was scanty; and the commander, who had to conduct the defence under circumstances so discouraging, was a young man of five-and-twenty, who had been bred a 25 bookkeeper. During fifty days the siege went on. During fifty days the young captain maintained the defence, with a firmness, vigilance, and ability, which would have done honour to the oldest marshal in Europe. The breach, ^o however, increased day by day. The garrison began to feel the pressure of hunger. Under such circumstances, any troops so scantily provided with officers might have been expected to show signs of insubordination; and the danger was peculiarly great in a force composed 35 LOKD CLIVE 61 of men differing widely from each other in extraction, colour, language, manners, and religion. But the devo- tion of the little band to its chief surpassed anything that is related of the Tenth Legion of Caesar, or of the 5 Old Guard of Xapoleon. The sepoys came to Clive, not to complain of their scanty fare, but to propose that all the grain should be given to the Europeans, who required more nourishment than the natives of Asia. The thin gruel, they said, which was strained 10 away from the rice, would suffice for themselves. His- tory contains no more touching instance of military fidelity, or of the influence of a commanding mind. An attempt made by the government of Madras to relieve the place had failed. But there was hope from 15 another quarter. A body of six thousand Mahrattas, half soldiers, half robbers, under the command of a chief named Morari Eow, had been hired to assist Mohammed Ali; but thinking the French power irre- sistible, and the triumph of Chunda Sahib certain, they 20 had hitherto remained inactive on the frontiers of the Carnatic. The fame of the defence of Arcot roused them from their torpor. Morari Eow declared that he had never before believed that Englishmen could fight, but that he would willingly help them since he saw 25 that they had spirit to help themselves. Eajah Sahib learned that the Mahrattas were in motion. It was necessary for him to be expeditious. He first tried negotiation. He offered large bribes to Clive, ^hich were rejected with scorn. He vowed that, if his pro- se posals were not accepted, he would instantly storm the fort, and put every man in.it to the sword. Clive told him in reply, with characteristic haughtiness, that his father was an usurper, that his army was a rabble, and that he would do well to think twice before he sent such 35 poltroons into a breach defended by English soldiers. 62 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS Eajah Saliib determined to storm the fort. The day was well suited to a bold military enterprise. It was the great Mahommedan festival which is sacred to the memory of Hosein, the son of Ali. The history of Islam contains nothing more touching than the event 5 which gave rise to that solemnity. The mournful legend relates how the chief of the Fatimites, when all his brave followers had perished round him, drank his latest draught of water, and uttered his latest prayer, how the assassins carried his head in triumph, 10 how the tyrant smote the lifeless lips with his staff, and how a few old men recollected with tears that they had seen those lips pressed to the lips of the Prophet of God. After the lapse of near twelve centuries, the recurrence of this solemn season excites the fiercest ai±d 15 saddest emotions in the bosoms of the devout Moslem of India. They work themselves up to such agonies of rage and lamentation that some, it is said, have given up the ghost from the mere effect of mental excitement. They believe that, whoever, during this festival, falls in 20 arms against the infidels, atones by his death for all the sins of his life, and passes at once to the garden of the Houris. It was at this time that Eajah Sahib determined to assault Arcot. Stimulating drugs were employed to aid the effect of religious zeal, and the 25 besiegers, drunk with enthusiasm, drunk with bang, rushed furiously to the attack. Cliv^ had received secret intelligence of the design, had made his arrangements, and, exhausted by fatigue, had thrown himself on his bed. He was awakened by so the alarm, and was instantly at his post. The enemy advanced, driving before them elephants whose fore- heads were armed with iron plates. It was expected that the gates would yield to the shock of these living bat- tering-rams. But the huge beasts no sooner felt the 35 LOED CLIVE 63 English miTsket-balls tlian they turned round, and rushed furious!}^ away, trampling on the multitude which had urged them forward. A raft was launched on the water which filled one part of the ditch. Clive, 5 perceiving that his gunners at that post did not under- stand their business, took the management of a piece of artillery himself, and cleared the raft in a few min- utes. When the moat w^as dry the assailants mounted with great boldness; but they w^ere received with a 10 fire so heavy and so well directed, that it soon quelled the courage even of fanaticism and of intoxication. The rear ranks of the English kept the front ranks supplied with a constant succession of loaded muskets, and every shot told on the living mass below. After three des- 15 perate onsets, the besiegers retired behind the ditch. The struggle lasted about an hour. Four hundred of the assailants fell. The garrison lost only five or six men. The besieged passed an anxious night, looking ' for a renewal of the attack. But when the day broke, 20 the enemy were no more to be seen. They had retired, leaving to the English several guns and a large quantity of ammunition. The news was received at Fort St. George with. transports of joy and pride. Clive was justly regarded 25 as a man equal to any command. Tw^o hundred Eng- lish soldiers and seven hundred sepoys were sent to him, and with this force he instantly commenced of- fensive operations. He took the fort of Timery, effected a junction with a division of Morari Eow's army, and 30 hastened, by forced marches, to attack Eajah Sahib, who was at the head of about five thousand men, of whom three hundred were French. The action was sharp; but Clive gained a complete victory. The mili- tary chest of Eajah Sahib fell into the hands of the 35 conquerors. Six hundred sepoys, who had served in 64 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS the enemy's army, came over to Clive's quarters, and were taken into the British service. Conjeveram sur- rendered without a blow. The governor- of Amee deserted Chunda Sahib, and recognised the title of Mahommed Ali. • 5 Had the entire direction of the war been intrusted to Clive, it would probably have been brought to a speedy close. But the timidity and incapacity which appeared in all the movements of the English, except where he was personally present, protracted the strug- lo gle. The Mahrattas muttered that his soldiers were of a different race from the British whom they found else- where. The effect of this languor was that in no long time Eajah Sahib, at the head of a considerable army, in which were four hundred French troops, appeared 15 almost under the guns of Fort St. George, and laid waste the villas and gardens of the gentlemen of the English settlement. But he was again encountered and defeated by Clive. More than a hundred of the French were killed or taken, a loss more serious than that of 20 thousands of natives. The victorious army marched from the field of battle to Fort St. David. On the road lay the City of the Victory of Dupleix, and the stately monument which was designed to commemorate the triumphs of France in the East. Clive ordered 25 both the city and the monument to be razed to the ground. He was induced, we believe, to take this step, not by personal or national malevolence, but by a just and profound policy. The town and its pompous name, the pillar and its vaunting inscriptions, were among 30 the devices by which Dupleix had laid the public mind of India under a spell. This spell it was Clive's busi- ness to break. The natives had been taught that France was confessedly the first power in Europe, and that the English did not presume to dispute her supremacy. 'No 35 LOED CLIVE 65 measure could be more effectual for the removing of this delusion than the public and solemn demolition of the French trophies. The government of Madras, encouraged by these 5 events, determined to send a strong detachment, under Clive, to reinforce the garrison of Trichinopoly. But just at this conjuncture, Major Lawrence arrived from England, and assumed the chief command. From the waywardness and impatience of control which had char- 10 acterised Clive, both at school and in the counting-house, it might have been expected that he would not, after such achievements, act with zeal and good humour in a subordinate capacity. But Lawrence had early treated him with kindness; and it is bare justice to 15 Clive to say that, proud and overbearing as he was, • kindness was never thrown away upon him. He cheer- fully placed himself under the orders of his old friend, and exerted himself as strenuously in the second post as he could have done in the first. Lawrence well knew 20 the value of such assistance. Though himself gifted with no intellectual faculty higher than plain good sense, he fully appreciated the powers of his brilliant coadjutor. Though he had made a methodical study of military tactics, and, like all men regularly bred to a 25 profession, was disposed to look with disdain on inter- lopers, he had yet liberality enough to acknowledge that Clive was an exception to common rules. "Some peo- ple,^^ he wrote, "are pleased to term Captain Clive fortunate and lucky; but, in my opinion, from the 30 knowledge I have of the gentleman, he deserved and might expect from his conduct everj^thing as it fell out; — a man of an undaunted resolution, of a cool temper, and of a presence of mind which never left him in the greatest danger — ^born a soldier ; for, without 35 a military education of any sort, or much conversing 66 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS with any of tlie profession, from his judgment and good sense, he led on an army like an experienced officer and a brave soldier, with a prudence that certainly warranted success/^ The French had no commander to oppose to the two 5 friends. Dupleix, not inferior in talents for negotia- tion and intrigue to any European who has borne a part in the revolutions of India, was ill qualified to direct in person military operations. He had not been bred a soldier, and had no inclination to become one. lo His enemies accused him of personal cowardice; and he defended himself in a strain worthy of Captain Bobadil. He kept away from shot, he said, because silence and tranquillity were propitious to his genius, and he found it difficult to pursue his meditations 15 amidst the noise of fire-arms. He was thus under the necessity of intrusting to others the execution of his great warlike designs; and he bitterly complained that he was ill served. He had indeed been assisted by one officer of eminent merit, the celebrated Bussy. 20 But Bussy had marched northward with the Nizam, and was fully employed in looking after his own interests, and those of France, at the court of that prince. Among the officers who remained with Dupleix, there was not a single man of capacity; and many of them were 25 boys, at whose ignorance and folly the common soldiers laughed. The English triumphed everywhere. The besiegers of Trichinopoly were themselves besieged and compelled to capitulate. Chunda Sahib fell into the hands of 30 the Mahrattas, and was put to death, at the instigation probably of his competitor, Mahommed Ali. The spirit of Dupleix, however, was unconquerable, and his re- sources inexhaustible. From his employers in Europe he no longer received help or countenance. They con- 35 LOED CLIVE 6T demned his polic}^ Tliey gave him no pecuniary assist- ance. They sent him for troops only the sweepings of the galleys. Yet still he persisted, intrigued, bribed, promised, lavished his private fortune, strained hi& 5 credit, procured new diplomas from Delhi, raised up new enemies to the government of Madras on every side, and found tools even among the allies of the English Company. But all was in vain. Slowly, but steadily, the power of Britain continued to increase, 10 and that of France to decline. The health of Clive had never been good during his residence in India; and his constitution was now so much impaired that he determined to return to England, Before his departure he undertook a service of consid- 15 erable difficulty, and performed it with his usual vigour and dexterity. The forts of Covelong and Chingleput were occupied by French garrisons. It was determined to send a force against them. But the only force available for this purpose was of such a description 2J that no officer but Clive would risk his reputation by commanding it. It consisted of five hundred newly levied sepoys and two hundred recruits who had just landed from England, and who were the worst and lowest wretches that the Companj^^s crimps could pick 25 up in the flash-houses of London. Clive, ill and exhausted as he was, undertook to make an army of this undisciplined rabble, and marched with them to Covelong. A shot from the fort killed one of these extraordinary soldiers; on which all the rest faced 30 about and ran away, and it was with the greatest dif- ficulty that Clive rallied them. On another occasion, the noise of a gun terrified the sentinels so much that one of them was found, some hours later, at the bottom of a well. Clive gradually accustomed them to danger, 35 and, by exposing himself constantly in the most perilous ,68 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS situations, shamed them into courage. He at length suc- ceeded in forming a respectable force out of his unprom- ising materials. Covelong fell. Clive learned that a strong detachment was marching to relieve it from Chingleput. He took measures to prevent the enemy 5 from learning that they were too late, laid an ambuscade for them on the road, killed a hundred of them with one fire, took three hundred prisoners, pursued the fugitives to the gates of Chingleput, laid siege instantly to that fastness, reputed one of the strongest in India, lo made a breach, and was on the point of storming, when the French commandant capitulated and retired with his men. Clive returned to Madras victorious, but in a state of health which rendered it impossible for him to remain 15 there long. He married at this time a young lady of the name of Maskelyne, sister of the eminent mathe- matician, who long held the post of Astronomer Royal. She is described as handsome and accomplished; and her husband's letters, it is said, contain proofs that he 20 was devotedly attached to her. Almost immediately after the marriage, Clive em- barked with his bride for England. He returned a very different person from the poor slighted boy who had been sent out ten years before to seek his fortune. 25 He was only twenty-seven; yet his country already re- spected him as one of her first soldiers. There was then general peace in Europe. The Carnatic was the only part of the world where the English and French were in arms against each other. The vast schemes of Dupleix had excited no small uneasiness in the city of London; and the rapid turn of fortune, which was chiefly owing to the courage and talents of Clive, had been hailed with delight. The young captain was known at the India House by the honourable nickname of General Clive, and was toasted by that appellation at the feasts ^^ LOED CLIVE .69 of the Directors. On his arrival in England, he found himself an object of general interest and admiration. The East India Company thanked him for his services in the warmest terms, and bestowed on him a sword set 5 with diamonds. With rare delicacy, he refused to re- ceive this token of gratitude, unless a similar compli- ment was paid to his friend and commander, Lawrence. It may easily be supposed that Clive was most cordially welcomed home by his family, who were de- 10 lighted by his success, though they seem to have been hardly able to comprehend how their naughty idle Bobby had become so great a man. His father had been singularly hard of belief, ^ot until the news of the defence of Arcot arrived in England was the old 15 gentleman heard to growl out that, after all, the booby had something in him. His expressions of approbation became stronger and stronger as news arrived of one brilliant exploit after another; and he was at length immoderately fond and proud of his son. 20 dive's relations had very substantial reasons for rejoicing at his return. Considerable sums of prize money had fallen to his share; and he had brought home a moderate fortune, part of which he expended in extricating his father from pecuniary difficulties, 25 and in redeeming the family estate. The remainder he appears to have dissipated in the course of about two years. He lived splendidly, dressed gaily even for those times, kept a carriage and saddle-horses, and, not content with these ways of getting rid of his 30 money, resorted to the most speedy and effectual of all modes of evacuation, a contested election followed by a petition. At the time of the general election of 1754, the Government was in a very singular state. There was 35 scarcely any formal opposition. The Jacobites had been 70 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS cowed by the issue of the last rebellion. The Tory party had fallen into ntter contempt. It had been deserted by all the men of talents who had belonged to it, and had scarcely given a symptom of life during some years. The small faction which had been held 5 together by the influence and promises of Prince Fred- eric, had been dispersed by his death. Almost every public man of distinguished talents in the kingdom, whatever his early connections might have been, was in office, and called himself a Whig. But this extra- lo ordinary appearance of concord was quite delusive. The administration itself was distracted by bitter enmities and conflicting pretensions. The chief object of its members was to depress and supplant each other. The Prime Minister, Newcastle, weak, timid, jealous, and 15 perfidious, was at once detested and despised by sorne of the most important members of his Government, and by none more than by Henry Fox, the Secretary- at-War. This able, daring, and ambitious man seized every opportunity of crossing the First Lord of the 20 Treasury, from whom he well knew that he had little to dread and little to hope; for Newcastle was through life equally afraid of breaking with men of parts and of promoting them. Newcastle had set his heart on returning two mem- 25 bers for St. Michael, one of those wretched Cornish boroughs which were swept away by the Eeform Act of 1832. He was opposed by Lord Sandwich, whose influence had long been paramount there: and Fox exerted himself strenuously in Sandwiches behalf. 30 Clive, who had been introduced to Fox, and very kindly received by him, was brought forward on the Sandwich interest, and was returned. But a petition was pre- sented against the return, and was backed by the whole influence of the Duke of Newcastle. 35 LOED CLIVE 71 The case was heard, according to the usage of that time, before a committee of the whole House. Ques- tions respecting elections were then considered merely as party questions. Judicial impartiality was not even 5 affected. Sir Eobert Walpole was in the habit of saying openly that, in election battles, there ought to be no quarter. On the present occasion the excitement was great. The matter really at issue was, not whether Clive had been properly or improperly returned, but 10 whether Newcastle or Fox was to be master of the new House of Commons, and consequently first minister. The contest was long and obstinate, and success seemed to lean sometimes to one side and sometimes to the other. Fox put forth all his rare powers of debate, 15 beat half the lawyers in the House at their own weapons, and carried division after division against the whole influence of the T^reasury. The committee de- cided in Olive's favour. But when the resolution was reported to the House, things took a different course. 20 The remnant of the Tory Opposition, contemptible as it was, had yet sufficient weight to turn the scale between the nicely balanced parties of N"ewcastle and Fox. Newcastle the Tories could only despise. Fox they hated, as the boldest and most subtle politician 25 and the ablest debater among the Whigs, as the steady friend of Walpole, as the devoted adherent of the Duke of Cumberland. After wavering till the last moment, they determined to vote in a body with the Prime Minister's friends. The consequence was that the 30 House, by a small majority, rescinded the decision of the committee, and Clive was unseated. Ejected from Parliament, and straitened in his means, he naturally began to look again towards India. The Company and the Government were eager to avail 35 themselves of his services. A treaty favourable to Eng- 72 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS land had indeed been concluded in the Carnatic. Dupleix had been superseded, and had returned with the wreck of his immense fortune to Europe, where calumny and chicanery soon hunted him to his grave. But many signs indicated that a war between France 5 and Great Britain was at hand; and it was therefore thought desirable to send an able commander to the Companj^^s settlements in India. The Directors ap- pointed Clive governor of Fort St. David. The King gave him the commission of a lieutenant-colonel in the lo British army, and in 1755 he again sailed for Asia. The first service on which he was employed after his return to the East was the reduction of the strong- hold of Gheriah. This fortress built on a craggy promontory, and almost surrounded by the ocean, was 15 the den of a pirate named Angria, whose barks had long been the terror of the Arabian Gulf. Admiral Watson, who commanded the English squadron in the Eastern seas, burned Angria^s fleet, while Clive attacked the fastness by land. The place soon fell, and booty 20 of a hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling was divided among the conquerors. After this exploit, Clive proceeded to his govern- ment of Fort St. David. Before he had been there two months, he received intelligence which called forth all 25 the energy of his bold and active mind. Of the provinces which had been subject to the house of Tamerlane, the wealthiest was Bengal. No part of India possessed such natural advantages both for agri- culture and for commerce. The Ganges, rushing 30 through a hundred channels to the sea, has formed a vast plain of rich mould which, even under the tropical sk}^, rivals the verdure of an English April. The rice- fields yield an increase such as is elsewhere unknown. Spices, sugar, vegetable oils, are produced with marvel- 35 LOKD CLIVE 73 lous exuberance. The rivers afford an inexhaustible supply of fish. The desolate islands along the sea- coast, overgrown by noxious vegetation, and swarming with deer and tigers, supply the cultivated districts 5 with abundance of salt. The great stream which fertilises the soil is, at the same time, the chief highway of Eastern commerce. On its banks, and on those of its tributary waters, are the wealthiest marts, the most splendid capitals, and the most sacred shrines of India. 10 The tyranny of man had for ages struggled in vain against the overflowing bounty of nature. In spite of the Mussulman despot and of the ]\Iahratta freebooter, Bengal was known through the East as the garden of Eden, as the rich kingdom. Its population multiplied 15 exceeding^. Distant provinces were nourished from the overflowing of its granaries; and the noble ladies of London and Paris were clothed in the delicate produce of its looms. The race by whom this rich tract was peopled, enervated by a soft climate and accus- 20 tomed to peaceful employments, bore the same relation to other Asiatics which the Asiatics generally bear to the bold, energetic children of Europe. The Castilians have a proverb, that in Valencia the earth is water and the men women ; and the description is at least equally 25 applicable to the vast plain of the Lower Ganges. Whatever the Bengalee does he does languidly. His favourite pursuits are sedentary. He shrinks from bod- ily exertion; and, though voluble in dispute, and singularly pertinacious in the war of chicane, he 30 seldom engages in a personal conflict, and scarcely ever enlists as a soldier. We doubt whether there be a hun- dred genuine Bengalees in the whole army of the East India Company. There never, perhaps, existed a people so thoroughly fitted by nature and by habit for a 35 foreign yoke. 74 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS The great commercial companies of Europe had long possessed factories in Bengal. The French were set- tled, as they still are, at Chandernagore on the Hoogley. Higher up the stream the Dutch held Chinsurah. Nearer to the sea, the English had built Fort William. 5 A church and ample warehouses rose in the vicinity. A row of spacious houses, belonging to the chief factors of the East India Company, lined the banks of the river; and in the neighbourhood had sprung up a large and busy native town, where some Hindoo merchants lo of great opulence had fixed their abode. But the tract now covered by the palaces of Chowringhee contained only a few miserable huts thatched with straw. A jungle, abandoned to water-fowl and alligators, covered the site of the present Citadel, and the Course, which 15 is now daily crowded at sunset with the gayest equipages of Calcutta. For the ground on which the settlement .stood, the English, like other great landholders, paid rent to the Government; and they were, like other landholders, permitted to exercise a certain jurisdiction 20 within their domain. The great province of Bengal, together with Orissa and Bahar, had long been governed by a viceroy, whom ihe English called Aliverdy Khan, and who, like the other viceroys of the Mogul, had become virtually 25 independent. He died in 1756, and the sovereignty descended to his grandson, a youth under twenty years of age, who bore the name of Sura j ah Dowlah. Oriental despots are perhaps the worst class of human beings; and this unhappy boy was one of the worst specimens 30 of his class. His understanding was naturally feeble, and his temper naturally unamiable. His education had been such as would have enervated even a vigorous intellect, and perverted even a generous disposition. He was unreasonable, because nobody ever dared to 35 LOED CLTVE 75 reason with him, and selfish, because he had never been made to feel himself dependent on the goodwill of others. Early debauchery had unnerved his body and his mind. He indulged immoderately in the use of 5 ardent spirits, which inflamed his weak brain almost to madness. His chosen companions were flatterers sprung from the dregs of the people, and recommended by noth- ing but buffoonery and servility. It is said that he had arrived at the last stage of human depravity, when 10 cruelty becomes pleasing for its own sake, when the sight of pain as pain, where no advantage is to be gained, no offence punished, no danger averted, is an agreeable excitement. It had early been his amusement to torture beasts and birds; and, when he grew up, he 15 enjoyed with still keener relish the misery of his fellow-creatures. From a child Sura j ah Dowlah had hated the English. It was his whim to do so; and his whims were never opposed. He had also formed a very exaggerated 20 notion of the wealth which might be obtained by plun- dering them ; and his feeble and uncultivated mind was incapable of perceiving that the riches of Calcutta, had they been even greater than he imagined, would not compensate him for what he must lose, if the European 25 trade, of which Bengal was a chief seat, should be driven by his violence to some other quarter. Pretexts for a quarrel were readily found. The English, in expectation of a war with France, had begun to fortify their settlement without special permission from the 30 Nabob. A rich native, whom he longed to plunder, had taken refuge at Calcutta, and had not been delivered up. On such grounds as these Sura j ah Dowlah marched with a great army against Fort William. The servants of the Company at Madras had been 35 forced by Dupleix to become statesmen and soldiers. 76 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS Those in Bengal were still mere traders, and were ter- rified and bewildered by the approaching danger. The governor, who had heard much of Surajah Dowlah^s cruelty, was frightened out of his wits, jumped into a boat, and took refuge in the nearest ship. The military 5 commandant thought that he could not do better than follow so good an example. The fort was taken after a feeble resistance; and great numbers of the English fell into the hands of the conquerors. The Nabob seated himself with regal pomp in the principal hall lo of the factory, and ordered Mr. Holwell, the first in rank among the prisoners, to be brought before him. His Highness talked about the insolence of the English, and grumbled at the smallness of the treasure which he had found, but promised to spare their lives, and retired 15 to rest. Then was committed that great crime, memorable for its singular atrocity, memorable for the tremendous retribution by which it was followed. The English captives were left to the mercy of the guards, and the 20 guards determined to secure them for the night in the prison of the garrison, a chamber known by the fearful name of the Black Hole. Even for a single European malefactor, that dungeon would, in such a climate, have been too close and narrow. The space was only twenty 25 feet square. The air-holes were small and obstructed. It was the summer solstice, the season when the fierce heat of Bengal can scarcely be rendered tolerable to natives of England by lofty halls and by the constant waving of fans. The number of the prisoners was one 30 hundred and forty-six. When they were ordered to enter the cell, they imagined that the soldiers were joking; and, being in high spirits on account of the promise of the Nabob to spare their lives, they laughed and jested at the absurdity of the notion. They soon 35 LOED CLIVE 77 discovered their mistake. Tliey expostulated; they entreated; but in vain. The guards threatened to cut down all who hesitated. The captives were driven into the cell at the point of the sword, and the door was 5 instantly shut and locked upon them. K"othing in history or fiction, not even the story which TJgolino told in the sea of everlasting ice, after he had wiped his bloody lips on the scalp of his mur- derer, approaches the horrors which were recounted by 10 the few survivors of that night. They cried for mercy. They strove to burst the door. Holwell who, even in that extremity, retained some presence of mind, offered large bribes to the gaolers. But the answer was that nothing could be done without the N'abob's orders, that 15 the Xabob was asleep, and that he would be angry if anybody woke him. Then the prisoners went mad with despair. They trampled each other down, fought for the places at the windows, fough't for the pittance of water with which the cruel mercy of the murderers 20 mocked their agonies, raved, prayed, blasphemed, im- plored the guards to fire among them. The gaolers in the meantime held lights to the bars, and shouted with laughter at the frantic struggles of their victims. At length the tumult died away in low gaspings and moan- 25 ings. The day broke. The Nabob had slept off his debauch, and permitted the door to be opened. But it was some time before the soldiers could make a lane for the survivors, by piling up on each side the heaps of corpses on which the burning climate had already 30 begun to do its loathsome work. When at length a passage was made, twenty-three ghastly figures, such as their own mothers would not have known, staggered one by one out of the charnel-house. A pit was instantly dug. The dead bodies, a hundred and twenty- 78 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS three in number, were flung into it promiscnoush^ and | covered up. | But these things — which, after tlie lapse of more than eighty years, cannot be told or read without horror — awakened neither remorse nor pity in the bosom of 5 the savage Nabob. He inflicted no punishment on the murderers. He showed no tenderness to the survivors. Some of them, indeed, from whom nothing was to be got, were suffered to depart; but those from whom it was thought that anything could be extorted were le 'treated with execrable cruelty. Holwell, unable to walk, was carried before the tyrant, who reproached him, threatened him, and sent him up the country in irons, together with some other gentlemen who were suspected of knowing more than they chose to tell about 15 the treasures of the Company. These persons, still bowed down by the sufferings of that great agony, were lodged in miserable sheds, and fed only with grain | and water, till at length the intercessions of the female < relations of the N'abob procured their release. One 20 Englishwoman had survived that night. She was placed in the harem of the Prince at Moorshedabad. Sura j ah Dowlah, in the meantime, sent letters to his nominal sovereign at Delhi, describing the late con- quest in the most pompous language. He placed a 23 garrison in Fort William, forbade Englishmen to dwell in the neighbourhood, and directed that, in memory of his great actions, Calcutta should thenceforward be i called Alinagore, that is to say, the Port of God. In August the news of the fall of Calcutta reached 30 Madras, and excited the fiercest and bitterest resent- i ment. The cry of the whole settlement was for ven- ^ geance. Within forty-eight hours after the arrival of the intelligence it was determined that an expedition should be sent to the Hoogiey, and that Clive should 35 LOED CLIVE 7^ be at the head of the land forces. The naval armament was under the command of Admiral Watson. Nine hundred English infantry, fine troops and full of spirit^ and fifteen hundred sepoys, composed the army which 5 sailed to punish a Prince who had more subjects than Louis the Fifteenth or the Empress Maria Theresa. la October the expedition sailed; but it had to make its way against adverse winds and did not reach Bengal till December. 10 The Nabob was revelling in fancied security at Moor- shedabad. He was so profoundly ignorant of the state of foreign countries that he often used to say that there were not ten thousand men in all Europe; and it had never occurred to him as possible that the English 15 would dare to invade his dominions. But, though undisturbed by any fear of their military power, he began to miss them greatly. His revenues fell off; and his ministers succeeded in making him understand that a ruler may sometimes find it more profitable to protect 20 traders in the open enjoyment of their gains than to put them to the torture for the purpose of discovering hidden chests of gold and jewels. He was already dis- posed to permit the Company to resume its mercantile operations in his country, when he received the news 25 that an English armament was in the Hoogley. He instantly ordered all his troops to assemble at Moor- shedabad, and marched towards Calcutta. Clive had commenced operations with his usual vigour. He took Budge-budge, routed the garrison of 30 Fort William, recovered Calcutta, stormed and sacked Hoogley. The Nabob, already disposed to make some concessions to the English, was confirmed in his pacific disposition by these proofs of their power and spirit. He accordingly made overtures to the chiefs of the 35 invading armament, and offered to restore the factory. 80 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS find to give compensation to those whom he had despoiled. Olive's profession was war ; and he felt that there was something discreditable in an accommodation with Surajah Dowlah. But his power was limited. A com- 5 mittee, chiefly composed of servants of .the Company who had fled from Calcutta, had the principal direction of atfair^; and these persons were eager to be restored to their posts and compensated for their losses. The government of Madras, apprised that war had com- lo menced in Europe, and apprehensive of an attack from the French, became impatient for the return of the armament. The promises of the iSTabob were large, the chances of a contest dou])tful; and Clive consented to treat, though he expressed his regret that things should 15 not be concluded in so glorious a manner as he could have wished. With this negotiation commences a new chapter in the life of Clive. Hitherto he had been merely a soldier carrying into effect, with eminent ability and valour, 20 the plans of others. Henceforth he is to be chiefly regarded as a statesman; and his military movements are to be considered as subordinate to his political designs. That in his new capacity he displayed great ability, and obtained great success, is unquestionable. 25 But it is also unquestionable that the transactions in which he now began to take a part have left a stain on his moral character. We can by no means agree with Sir John Malcolm, who is obstinately resolved to see nothing but honour 30 and integrity in the conduct of his hero. But we can as little agree with Mr. Mill, who has gone so far as to say that Clive was a man ^^to whom deception, when it suited his purpose, never cost a pang." Clive seems to us to have been constitutionally the very opposite 35 LOED CLIVE 81 of a knave, bold even to temerity, sincere even to indiscretion, hearty in friendship, open in enmity. Neither in his private life, nor in those parts of his public life in which he had to do with his countrymen, 5 do we find any signs of a propensity to cunning. On the contrary, in all the disputes in which he was engaged as an Englishman against Englishmen, from his boxing-matches at school to those stormy altercations at the India House and in Parliament amidst which 10 his later years were passed, his very faults were those of a high and magnanimous spirit. The truth seems to have been that he considered Oriental politics as a game in which nothing was unfair. He knew that the standard of morality among the natives of India differed 15 widely from that established in England. He knew that he had to deal with men destitute of what in Europe is called honour, with men who would give any promise without hesitation, and break any promise without shame, with men who would unscrupulously 20 employ corruption, perjury, forgery, to compass their ends. His letters show that the great difference between Asiatic and European morality was con- stantly in his thoughts. He seems to have im- agined, most erroneously in our opinion, that 25 he could effect nothing against such adversaries, if he was content to be bound by ties from which they were free, if he went on telling truth, and hearing none, if he fulfilled, to his own hurt, all his engagements with confederates who never kept an 30 engagement that was not to their advantage. Accord- ingly this man, in the other parts of his life an hon- ourable English gentleman and a soldier, was no sooner matched against an Indian intriguer, than he became himself an Indian intriguer, and descended, without 35 scruple, to falsehood, to hypocritical caresses, to the 82 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS substitution of documents^ and to the counterfeiting of hands. The negotiations between the English and the Nabob were carried on chietiy by two agents, Mr. Watts, a servant of the Company, and a Bengalee of the name 5 of Omichund. This Omichund had been one of the wealthiest native merchants resident at Calcutta, and had sustained great losses in consequence of the Nabob's expedition against that place. In the course of his commercial transactions, he had seen much of the 10 English, and was peculiarly qualified to serve as a medium of communication between them and a native court. He possessed great influence with his own race, and had in large measure the Hindoo talents, quick observation, tact, dexterity, perseverance, and the 15 Hindoo vices, servility, greediness, and treachery. The Nabob behaved with all the faithlessness of an Indian statesman, and with all the levity of a boy whose mind had been enfeebled by power and self- indulgence. He promised, retracted, hesitated, evaded. 20 At one time he advanced with his army in a threat- ening manner towards Calcutta; but when he saw the resolute front which the English presented, he fell back in alarm, and consented to make peace with them on their own terms. The treaty was no sooner concluded 25 than he formed new designs against them. He intrigued with the French authorities at Chandernagore. He invited Bussy to march from the Deccan to the Hoogley, and to drive the English out of Bengal. All this was well known to Clive and Watson. They determined 30 accordingly to strike a decisive blow^, and to attack Chandernagore, before the force there could be strength- ened by new arrivals, either from the south of India, or from Europe. Watson directed the expedition by water, Clive by land. The success of the combined 35 LOED CLIVE 83 movements was rapid and complete. The fort, the gar- rison, the artillery, the. military stores, all fell into the hands of the English. Near five hundred European troops were among the prisoners. 5 The N'abob had feared and hated the English, even while he was still able to oppose to them their French rivals. The French were now vanquished; and he began to regard the English with still greater fear and still greater hatred. His weak and unprincipled mind 10 oscillated between servility and insolence. One day he sent a large sum to Calcutta, as part of the compensa- tion due for the wrongs which he had committed. The next day he sent a present of jewels to Bussy, exhorting that distinguished officer to hasten to protect Bengal 15 "against Clive, the daring in war, on whom," says His Highness, "may all bad fortune attend." He ordered his army to march against the English. He counter- manded his orders. He tore Olive's letters. He then sent answers in the most florid language of compliment. 20 He ordered Watts out of his presence, and threatened to impale him. He again sent for Watts, and begged pardon for the insult. In the meantime, his wretched maladministration, his folly, his dissolute manners, and his love of the lowest company, had disgusted all -classes 25 of his subjects, soldiers, traders, civil functionaries, the proud and ostentatious Mahommedans, the timid, sup- ple, and parsimonious Hindoos. A formidable con- federacy was formed against him, in which were included Eoydullub, the minister of finance, Meer Jaffier, the 30 principal commander of the troops, and Jugget Seit, the richest banker in India. The plot was confided to the English agents, and a communication was opened between the malcontents at Moorshedabad and the committee at Oalcutta. 85 In the committee there was much hesitation; but 84 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS Clime's voice was given in favour of the conspirators, and his vigour and firmness bore down all opposition. It was determined that the English should lend their powerful assistance to depose Surajah Dowlah, and to place Meer Jaffier on the throne of Bengal. In return, 5 Meer Jaffier promised ample compensation to the Com- pany and its servants, and a liberal donative to the army, the navy, and the committee. The odious vices of Surajah Dowlah, the wrongs which the English had suffered at his hands, the dangers to which our trade lO must have been exposed, had he continued to reign, appear to us fully to justify the resolution of deposing him. But nothing can justify the dissimulation which Clive stooped to practise. He wrote to Surajah Dowlah in terms so affectionate that they for a time lulled that 15 weak prince into perfect security. The same courier who carried this "soothing letter," as Clive calls it, to the Nabob, carried to Mr. Watts a letter in the following terms : "Tell Meer Jaffier to fear nothing. I will join him with five thousand men who never turned their 20 backs. Assure him I will march night and day to his assistance, and stand by him as long as I have a man left." It was impossible that a plot which had so many ramifications should long remain entirely concealed. 25 Enough reached the ears of the N'abob to arouse his suspicions. But he was soon quieted by the fictions and artifices which the inventive genius of Omichund produced with miraculous readiness. All was going well ; the plot was nearly ripe ; when Clive learned 30 that Omichund was likely to play false. The artful Bengalee had been promised a liberal compensation for all that he had lost at Calcutta. But this would not satisfy him. His services had been great. He held the thread of the whole intrigue. By one word breathed 35 LOKD CLIVE 85 in the ear of Surajah Dowlah, he could undo all that he had done. The lives of Watts, of Meer Jaffier, of all the conspirators, were at his mercy ; and he determined to take advantage of his situation and to make his own 5 terms. He demanded three hundred thousand pounds sterling as the price of his secrecy and of his assistance. The committee, incensed by the treachery and appalled by the danger, knew not what course to take. But Clive was more than Omichund's match in Omichund^s 10 own arts. The man, he said, was a villain. Any artifice which would defeat such knavery was justifiable. The best course would be to promise what was asked. Omichund would soon be at their mercy; and then they might punish him by withholding from him, not 15 only the bribe which he now demanded, but also the compensation which all the other sufferers of Calcutta were to receive. His advice was taken. But how was the wary and sagacious Hindoo to be deceived? He had demanded 20 that an article touching his claims should be inserted in the treaty between Meer Jaffier and the English, and he would not be satisfied unless he saw it with his own eyes. Clive had an expedient ready. Two treaties were drawn up, one on white paper, the other on red, the 25 former real, the latter fictitious. In the former Omichund's name was not mentioned; the latter, which was to be shown to him, contained a stipulation in his favour. But another difficulty arose. Admiral Watson had 80 scruples about signing the red treaty. Omichund's vigilance and acuteness were such that the absence of so important a name would probably awaken his sus- picions. But Clive was not a man to do anything by halves. We almost blush to write it. He forged 85 Admiral Watson's name. 86 MACAULAY^S ESSAYS All was now ready for action. Mr. Watts fled secretly from Moorshedabad. Clive pnt liis troops in motion, and wrote to the Nabob in a tone very different from that of his previous letters. He set forth all the wrongs which the British suffered, offered to submit the points 5 in dispute to the arbitration of Meer Jaflfier, and con- cluded by announcing that, as the rains were about to set in, he and his men would do themselves the honour of waiting on his Highness for an answer. Sura j ah Dowlah instantly assembled his whole force, lo and marched to encounter the English. It had been agreed that Meer Jaffier should separate himself from the Nabob, and carry over his division to Clive, But, as the decisive moment approached, the fears of the conspirator overpowered his ambition. Clive had ad- is vanced to Cossimbuzar; the Nabob lay with a mighty power a few miles off at Plassey; and still Meer Jaffier delayed to fulfil his engagements, and returned evasive answers to the earnest remonstrances of the English general. 20 Clive was in a painfully anxious situation. He could place no confidence in the sincerity or in the courage of his confederate; and, whatever confidence he might place in his own military talents, and in the valour and discipline of his troops, it was no light thing to 25 engage an army twenty times as numerous as his own. Before him lay a river over which it was easy to ad- vance, but over which, if things went ill, not one of his little band would ever return. On this occasion, for the first and for the last time, his dauntless spirit, 30 during a few hours, shrank from the fearful responsi- bility of making a decision. He called a council of war. The majority pronounced against fighting; and Clive declared his concurrence with the majority. Long afterwards, he said that he had never called but 35 LOKD CLIVE 87 one council of war, and that, if he had taken the advice of that council, the British would never have been masters of Bengal. But scarcely had the meeting broken up when he was himself again. He retired. 5 alone under the shade of some trees, and passed near an hour there in thought. He came back determined to put everything to the hazard, and gave orders that all should be in readiness for passing the river on the morrow. 10 The river was passed; and, at the close of a toilsome day^s march, the army, long after sunset, took up its quarters in a grove of mango-trees near Plassey, within a mile of the enemy. Clive was unable to sleep; he heard, through the whole night, the sound of drums 15 and cymbals from the vast camp of the Nabob. It is not strange that even his stout heart should now and then have sunk, when he reflected against what odds, and for what a prize, he was in a few hours to contend. Nor was the rest of Surajah Dowlah more peaceful. 20 His mind, at once w^eak and stormy, was distracted by wild and horrible apprehensions. Appalled by the greatness and nearness of the crisis, distrusting his captains, dreading every one who approached him, dreading to be left alone, he sat gloomily in his tent, 25 haunted, a Greek poet would have said, by the furies of those who had cursed him with their last breath in the Black Hole. The day broke, the day which was to decide the fate of India. At sunrise the army of the Nabob, pouring 30 through many openings of the camp, began to move towards the grove where the English lay."" Forty thou- sand infantry, armed with firelocks, pikes, swords, bows and arrows, covered the plain. They were accompanied by fifty pieces of ordnance of the largest size, each 35 tugged by a long team of white oxen, and each pushed 88 MACAULAY^S ESSAYS on from behind by an elephant. Some smaller gnns, under the direction of a few French auxiliaries, were perhaps more formidable. The cavalry were fifteen thousand, drawn, not from the effeminate population of Bengal, but from the bolder race which inhabits the ^ northern provinces ; and the practised eye of Clive could perceive that both the men and the horses were more powerful than those of the Carnatic. The force which he had to oppose to this great multitude consisted of only three thousand men. But of these nearly a thou- ^^ sand were English ; and all were led by English officers, and trained in the English discipline. Conspicuous in the ranks of the little army were the men of the Thirty- Ninth Eegiment, which still bears on its colours, amidst many honourable additions won under Wellington in i^ Spain and Gascony, the name of Plassey, and the proud motto, Primus in Indis. The battle commenced with a cannonade in which the artillery of the ISTabob did scarcely any execution, while the few field-pieces of the English produced great 20 effect. Several of the most distinguished officers in ' Surajah Dowlah's service fell. Disorder began to spread through his ranks. His own terror increased every moment. One of the conspirators urged on him the expediency of retreating. The insidious advice, 25 agreeing as it did with what his own terrors suggested, was readily received. He ordered his army to fall back, and this order decided his fate. Clive snatched the moment, and ordered his troops to advance. The con- fused and dispirited multitude gave way before the 30 onset of disciplined valour. 'No mob attacked by regu- lar soldiers was ever more completely routed. The little band of Frenchmen, who alone ventured to con- front the English, were swept down the stream of fugitives. In an hour the forces of Surajah Dowlah 35 LORD CLIVH 89 were dispersed, never to reassemble. Only five hundred of the vanquished were slain. But their camp, their guns, their baggage, innumerable wagons, innumer- able cattle, remained in the power of the conquerors. - With the loss of twenty-two soldiers killed and fifty wounded, Clive had scattered an army of near sixty thousand men, and subdued an empire larger and more populous than Great Britain. Meer Jaffier had given no assistance to the English 10 during the action. But, as soon as he saw that the fate of the day was decided, he drew off his division of the army, and, when the battle was over, sent his congratu- lations to his ally. The next morning he repaired to the English quarters, not a little uneasy as to the re- 15 ception which awaited him there. He gave evident signs of alarm when a guard was drawn out to receive him with the honours due to his rank. But his appre- hensions were speedily removed, Clive came forward to met him, embraced him, saluted him as Nabob of 20 the three great provinces of Bengal, Bahar, and Orissa, listened graciously to his apologies, and advised him to march without delay to Moorshedabad. Sura j ah Dowlah had fled from the field of battle with all the speed with which a fleet camel could carry 25 him, and arrived at Moorshedabad in little more than twenty-four hours. There he called his councillors round him. The wisest advised him to put himself into the hands of the English, from whom he had nothing worse to fear than deposition and confinement. But 30 he attributed this suggestion to treachery. Others urged him to try the chance of war again. He approved the advice, and issued orders accordingly. But he wanted spirit to adhere even during one day to a manly resolution. He learned that Meer Jaffier had arrived, 35 and his terrors became insupportable. Disguised in a 90 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS mean dress, with a casket of jewels in his hand, he let himself down at night from a window of his palace, and accompanied by only two attendants, embarked on the river for Patna. In a few days Clive arrived at Moorshedabad, escorted 5 by two hundred English soldiers and three hundred sepoys. For his residence had been assigned a palace, which was snrronnded by a garden so spacious that all the troops who accompanied him conld conveniently encamp within it. The ceremony of the installation of lO Meer Jaffier was instantly performed. Clive led the new Nabob to the seat of honour, placed him on it, presented to him, after the immemorial fashion of the East, an offering of gold, and then, turning to the natives who filled the hall, congratulated them on the 15 good fortune which had freed them from a tyrant. He was compelled on this occasion to use the services of an interpreter; for it is remarkable that, long as he resided in India, intimately acquainted as he was with Indian politics and with the Indian char- 20 acter, and adored as he was by his Indian soldiery, he never learned to express himself with facility in any Indian language. He is said indeed to have been some- times under the necessity of employing, in his inter- course with natives of India, the smattering of 25 Portuguese which he had acquired, when a lad, in Brazil. The new sovereign was now called upon to fulfil the engagements into which he had entered with his allies. A conference was held at the house of Jugget Seit, the 30 great banker, for the purpose of making the necessary arrangements. Omichund came thither, fully believing himself to stand high in the favour of Clive, who, with dissimulation surpassing even the dissimulation of Bengal, had up to that day treated him with undimin- 35 LOKD CLIVE 91 ished kindness. The white treaty was produced and read. Clive then turned to Mr. Scrafton, one of the servants of the Company, and said in English, "It is now time to undeceive Omichund.'^ "Omichund/'' said 5 Mr. Scrafton in Hindostanee, "the red treaty is a trick. You are to have nothing.^' Omichund fell back insensi- ble into the arms of his attendants. He revived; but his mind was irreparably ruined. Clive, who, though little troubled by scruples of conscience in his dealings 10 with Indian politicians, was not inhuman, seems to have been touched. He saw Omichund a few days later, spoke to him kindly, advised him to make a pilgrimage to one of the great temples of India, in the hope that change of scene might restore his health, and was even 15 disposed, notwithstanding all that had passed, again to employ him in the public service. But from the mo- ment of that sudden shock, the unhappy man sank gradually into idiocy. He who had formerly been dis- tinguished by the strength of his understanding and the 20 simplicity of his habits, now squandered the remains- of his fortune on childish trinkets, and loved to exhibit himself dressed in rich garments, and hung with pre- cious stones. In this abject state he languished a few months, and then died. 25 We should not think it necessary to offer any remarks for the purpose of directing the judgment of our read- ers, with respect to this transaction, had not Sir John Malcolm undertaken to defend it in all its parts. He regrets, indeed, that it was necessary to employ means 30 so liable to abuse as forgery; but he will not admit that any blame attaches to those who deceived the de- ceiver. He thinks that the English were not bound to keep faith with one who kept no faith with them, and that, if they had fulfilled their engagements with the 35 wily Bengalee, so signal an example of successful trea- 92 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS son would have produced a crowd of imitators. Now, we wiir not discuss this point on any rigid principles of morality. Indeed, it is quite unnecessary to do so: for, looking at the question as a question of expediency in the lowest sense of the word, and using no argu- 5 ments but such as Machiavelli might have employed in his conferences with Borgia, we are convinced that Clive was altogether in the wrong, and that he committed, not merely a crime, but a blunder. That honesty is the best policy is a maxim which we firmly believe to be lo generally correct, even with respect to the temporal interest of individuals ; but with respect to societies, the rule is subject to still fewer exceptions, and that for this reason, that the life of societies is longer than the life of individuals. It is possible to mention men who 15 have owed great worldly prosperity to breaches of pri- vate faith ; but we doubt whether it be possible to men- tion a state which has on the whole been a gainer by a breach of public faith. The entire history of British India is an illustration of the great truth, that it is not 20 prudent to oppose perfidy to perfid}^, and that the most efficient weapon with which men can encounter false- hood is truth. During a long course of years, the Eng- lish rulers of India, surrounded by allies and enemies whom no engagement could bind, have generally acted 25 with sincerity and uprightness ; and the event has proved that sincerity and uprightness are wisdom. English valour and English intelligence have done less to extend and to preserve our Oriental empire than English verac- ity. All that we could have gained by imitating the 30 doublings, the evasions, the fictions, the perjuries which have been employed against us, is as nothing, when compared with what we have gained by being the one power in India on whose word reliance can be placed. No oath which superstition can devise, no hostage how- 35 LOED CLIVE 93 ever precious, inspires a hundredth part of the confi- dence which is produced by the "yea, yea/' and "nay, nay/' of a British envoy. No fastness, however strong by art or nature, gives to its inmates a security like 5 that enjoyed by the chief who, passing through the ter- ritories of powerful and deadly enemies, is armed with the British guarantee. The mightiest princes of the East can scarcely, by the offer of enormous usury, draw forth any portion of the wealth which is concealed under 10 the hearths of their subjects. The British Government offers little more than four per cent.; and avarice hast- ens to bring forth tens of millions of rupees from its most secret repositories. A hostile monarch may prom- ise mountains of gold to our sepoys, on condition that 15 they will desert the standard of the Company. The Company promises only a moderate pension after a long service. But every sepoy knows that the promise of the Company will be kept; he knows that if he lives a hundred years his rice and salt are as secure as the 20 salary of the Governor-General : and he knows that there is not another state in India which would not, in spite of the most solemn vows, leave him to die of hunger in a ditch as soon as he had ceased to be useful. The greatest advantage which a government can possess is 25 to be the one trustworthy government in the midst of governments which nobody can trust. This advantage we enjoy in Asia. Had we acted during the last two generations on the principles which Sir John Malcolm appears to have considered as sound, had we, as often 30 as we had to deal with people like Omichund, retaliated by lying and forging, and breaking faith, after their fashion, it is our firm belief that no courage or capacity could have upheld our empire. Sir John Malcolm admits that Clive's breach of faith 35 could be justified only by the strongest necessity. As 94 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS we think that breach of faith not only unnecessary, but most inexpedient, we need hardly say that we altogether condemn it. Omichund was not the only victim of the revolution. Sura j ah Dowlah was taken a few days after his flight, 5 and was brought before Meer Jaffier. There he flung himself on the ground in convulsions of fear, and with tears and loud cries implored the mercy wliich he had never shown. Meer Jaffier hesitated; but his son Meeran, a youth of seventeen, who in feebleness of lo brain and savageness of nature greatly resembled the wretched captive, was implacable. Surajah Dowlah was led into a secret chamber, to which in a short time the ministers of death were sent. In this act the English bore no part ; and Meer Jaffier understood so much of 15 their feelings that he thought it necessary to apologize to them for having avenged them on their most malignant enemy. The shower of wealth now fell copiously on the Company and its servants. A sum of eight hundred 20 thousand pounds sterling, in coined silver, was sent down the river from Moorshedabad to Fort William. The fleet which conveyed this treasure consisted of more than a hundred boats, and performed its triumphal voyage with flags flying and music playing. Calcutta, 25 which a few months before had been desolate, was now more prosperous than ever. Trade revived; and the signs of affluence appeared in every English house. As to Clive, there was no limit to his acquisitions but his own moderation. The treasury of Bengal was thrown 30 open to him. There were piled up, after the usage of Indian princes, immense masses of coin, among which might not seldom be detected the florins and byzants with which, before any European ship had turned the Cape of Good Hope, the Venetians purchased the stuffs 35 LOED CLIVE 95 ' and spices of the East. Clive walked between heaps of gold and silver, crowned with rubies and diamonds, and was at liberty to help himself. He accepted between two and three hundred thousand pounds. 5 The pecuniary transactions between Meer Jaffier and Clive were sixteen years later condemned by the public voice, and severely criticised in Parliament. They are vehemently defended by Sir John Malcolm. The ac- cusers of the victorious general represented his gains as 10 the wages of corruption, or as plunder extorted at the point of the sword from a helpless ally. The biographer, on the other hand, considers these great acquisitions as free gifts, honourable alike to the donor and to the receiver, and compares them to the rewards bestowed 15 by foreign powers on Marlborough, on Nelson, and on Wellington. It had always, he says, been customary in the East to give and receive presents; and there was, as yet, no Act of Parliam.ent positively prohibiting English functionaries in India from profiting by this 20 Asiatic usage. This reasoning, we own, does not quite satisfy us. We do not suspect Clive of selling the in- terests of his emplo3^ers or his country; but we cannot acquit him of having done what, if not in itself evil, was yet of evil example. Nothing is more clear than 25 that a general ought to be the servant of his own gov- ernment, and of no other. It follows that whatever rewards he receives for his services ought to be given either by his own government, or with the full knowl- edge and approbation of his own government. This 30 rule ought to be strictly maintained even with respect to the merest bauble, with respect to a cross, a medal, or a yard of coloured riband. But how can any gov- ernment'be well served, if those who command its forces are at liberty, without its permission, without its privity, 35 to accept princely fortunes from its allies ? It is idle 96 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS to say that there was then no Act of Parliament pro- hibiting the practice of taking presents from Asiatic sovereigns. It is not on the Act which was passed at a later period for the purpose of preventing any such taking of presents, but on grounds which were valid 5 before that Act was passed, on grounds of common law and common sense, that we arraign the conduct of Clive. There is no Act that we know of, prohibiting the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs from being in the pay of continental powers, but it is not the less lo true that a Secretary who should receive a secret pen- sion from France Avould grossly violate his duty, and would deserve severe punishment. Sir John Malcolm compares the conduct of Clive with that of the Duke of Wellington. Suppose, — and we beg pardon for put- 15 ting such a supposition even for the sake of argument, — that the Duke of Wellington had, after the campaign of 1815, and while he commanded the army of occu- pation in France, privately accepted two hundred thou- sand pounds from Louis the Eighteenth, as a mark of 20 gratitude for the great services which his Grace had rendered to the House of Bourbon; what would be thought of such a transaction? Yet the statute-book no more forbids the taking of presents in Europe now than it forbade the taking of presents in Asia then. 25 At the same time, it must be admitted that, in Olive's case, there were many extenuating circumstances. He considered himself as the general, not of the Crown, but of the Company. The Company had, by implication at least, authorised its agents to enrich themselves by 30 means of the liberality of the native princes, and by other means still more objectionable. It was hardly to be expected that the servant should entertain stricter notions of his duty than were entertained by his mas- ters. Though Clive did not distinctly acquaint his em- 35 LOED CLIYE 97 ployers with what had taken place and request their sanction, he did not, on the other hand, by studied con-* ceahnent, show that he was conscious of having done wrong. On the contrary, he avowed with the greatest 5 openness that the Nabob's bounty had raised him to af- fluence. Lastty, though we think that he ought not in such a way to have taken anything, we must admit that he deserves praise for having taken so little. He accepted twenty lacs of rupees. It would have cost him 10 only a word to make the twenty forty. It was a very easy exercise of virtue to declaim in England against Olive's rapacity ; but not one in a hundred of his accusers would have shown so much self-command in the treasury of Moorshedabad. 15 Meer Jaffier could be upheld on the throne only by the hand which had placed him on it. He was not, indeed, a mere boy ; nor had he been so unfortunate as to be born in the purple. He was not therefore quite so imbecile or quite so depraved as his predecessor had been. But 20 he had none of the talents or virtues which his post required; and his son and heir, Meeran,. was another Surajah Dowlah. The recent revolution had unsettled the minds of men. Many chiefs were in open insurrec- tion against the new Nabob. The viceroy of the rich 25 and powerful province of Oude, who, like the other viceroys of the Mogul was now in truth an independent sovereign, menaced Bengal with invasion. Nothing but the talents and authority of Olive could support the tot- tering government. While things were in this state, a 30 ship arrived with despatches which had been written at the India House before the news of the battle of Plassey had reached London. The Directors had determined to place the English settlements in Bengal under a govern- ment constituted in the most cumbrous and absurd 35 manner; and to make the matter worse, no place in 98 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS the arrangement was assigned to Clive. The persons who were selected to form this new government, greatly to their honour, took on themselves the responsibility of disobeying these preposterous orders, and invited Clive to exercise the supreme authority. He consented ; 5 and it soon appeared that the servants of the Company had only anticipated the wishes of their employers. The Directors, on receiving news of Clive's brilliant success, instantly appointed him governor of their possessions in Bengal, with the highest marks of gratitude and 10 esteem. His power was now boundless, and far sur- passed even that which Dupleix had attained in the south of India. Meer Jaffier regarded him with slavish awe. On one occasion, the Nabob spoke with severity to a native chief of high rank, whose followers had been 15 engaged in a brawl with some of the Company's sepoys. "Are you yet to learn,'' he said, "who that Colonel Clive is, and in what station God has placed him?" The chief, who, as a famous jester and an old friend of Meer Jaffier, could venture to take liberties, answered, 20 "I affront the Colonel! I, who never get up in the morning without making three low bows to his jackass !" This was hardly an exaggeration. Europeans and na- tives were alike at Clive's feet. The English regarded him as the only man who could force Meer Jaffier to 25 keep his engagements with them. Meer Jaffier regarded him as the only man who could protect the new dynasty against turbulent subjects and encroaching neighbours. It is but justice to say that Clive used his power ably and vigorously for the advantage of his country. He 30 sent forth an expedition against the tract lying to the north of the Carnatic. In this tract the French still had the ascendency; and it was important to dislodge them. The conduct of the enterprise was intrusted to an officer of the name of Forde, who was then little 35 LORD CLIVE 99 known, but in whom the keen e3'e of the governor had detected military talents of a high order.. The success of the expedition was rapid and splendid. While a considerable part of the arni}^ of Bengal was 5 thus engaged at a distance, a new and formidable dan- ger menaced the western frontier. The Great Mogul was a prisoner at Delhi in the hands of a subject. His eldest son, named Shah Alum, destined to be, during many years, the sport of adverse fortune, and to be a 10 tool in the hands, first of the Mahrattas, and then of the English, had fled from the palace of his father. His birth was still revered in India. Some powerful princes, the Xabob of Oude in particular, were inclined to favour him. Shah Alum found it easy to draw to his standard 15 great numbers of the military adventurers with whom every part of the country swarmed. An army of forty thousand men, of various races and religions, Mahrat- tas, Eohillas, Jauts, and Afghans, were speedily assem- bled round him; and he formed the design of over- 20 throwing the upstart whom the English had elevated to a throne, and of establishing his own authority throughout Bengal, Orissa, and Bahar. Meer Jaffier's terror was extreme ; and the only expe- dient which occurred to him was to purchase, by the 25 payment of a large sum of money, an accommodation with Shah Alum. This expedient had been repeatedly employed by those who, before him, had ruled the rich and unwarlike provinces near the mouth of the Ganges, But Clive treated the suggestion with a scorn worthy 30 of his strong sense and dauntless courage. ''^If you do this,'' he wrote, "you will have the Xabob of Oude, the Mahrattas, and many more, come from all parts of the confines of your country, who wall bully you out of money till you have none left in your treasury. I 35 beg your Excellency will rely on the fidelity of the Eng- 100 MACAULAY^S ESSAYS lish^ and of those troops which are attached to you." He wrote in a similar strain to the governor of Patna, a brave native soldier whom he highly esteemed. ^^Come to no terms; defend your city to the last. Eest assured that the English are staunch and firm friends, and that 5 they never desert a cause in which they have once taken a part." He kept his word. Shah Alum had invested Patna, and was on the point of proceeding to storm, when he learned that the Colonel was advancing by forced 10 marches. The whole army which was approaching con- sisted of only four hundred and fifty Europeans and two thousand five hundred sepoys. But Clive and his Englishmen were now objects of dread over all the East. As soon as his advance guard appeared, the besiegers 15 fled before him. A few French adventurers who were about the person of the prince advised him to try the chance of battle ; but in vain. In a few days this great army, which had been regarded with so much uneasi- ness by the court of Moorshedabad, melted away before 20 the mere teiTor of the British name. The conqueror returned in triumph to Fort William. The joy of Meer Jaffier was as unbounded as his fears had been, and led him to bestow on his preserver a princely token of gratitude. The quit-rent which the 25 East India Company were bound to pay to the Nabob for the extensive lands held by them to the south of Calcutta amounted to near thirty thousand pounds ster- ling a 3^ear. The whole of this splendid estate, sufficient to support with dignity the highest rank of the British 30 peerage, was now conferred on Clive for life. This present we think Clive justified in accepting. It "was a present which, from its very nature, could be BO secret. In fact, the Company itself was his tenant, LOED CLIVE 101 and, by its acquiescence, signified its approbation of Meer Jaffier's grant. But the gratitude of Meer Jaffier did not last long. He had for some time felt that the powerful ally who 5 had set him up, might pull him down, and had been looking round for support against the formidable strength by which he had himself been hitherto sup- 23orted. He knew that it would be impossible to find among the natives of India any force which would look 10 the Colonel's little army in the face. The French power in Bengal was extinct. But the fame of the Dutch had anciently been great in the Eastern seas; and it was not yet distinctly known in Asia how much the power of Holland had declined in Europe. Secret communi- 15 cations passed between the court of Moorshedabad and the Dutch factory at Chinsurah ; and urgent letters were sent from Chinsurah, exhorting the government of Batavia to fit out an expedition which might balance the power of the English in Bengal. The authorities 20 of Batavia, eager to extend the influence of their coun- try, and still more eager to obtain for themselves a share of the wealth which had recently raised so many English adventurers to opulence, equipped a powerful armament. Seven large ships from Java arrived unex- 25 pectedty in the Hoogiey. The military force on board amounted to fifteen hundred men, of whom about one half were Europeans. The enterprise was w^ell timed. Clive had sent such large detachments to oppose the French in the Carnatic that his army was now inferior 30 in number to that of the Dutch. He knew that Meer Jaffier secretly favoured the invaders. He knew that he took on himself a serious responsibility if he attacked the forces of a friendly power; that the English min- isters could not wish to see a war with Holland added 35 to that in which they were already engaged with France ; 102 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS that they might disavow his acts ; that they might pun- ish him. He had recently remitted a great part of his fortune to Europe^ through the Dutch East India Com- pany ; and he had therefore a strong interest in avoiding any quarreL But he was satisfied that, if he suffered 5 the Batavian armament to pass up the river and to join the garrison of Chinsurah, Meer Jaffier would throw himself into the arms of these new allies, and that the English ascendency in Bengal would be exposed to most serious danger. He took his resolution with character- 10 istic boldness, and was most ably seconded by his officers, particularly by Colonel Forde, to whom the most impor- tant part of the operations was intrusted. The Dutch attempted to force a passage. The English encountered them both by land and water. On both elements the 15 enemy had a great superiorit}^ of force. On both they were signally defeated. Their ships were taken. Their troops were put to a total rout. Almost all the Euro- pean soldiers, who constituted the main strength of the invading arm}^, were killed or taken. The conquerors 20 sat down before Chinsurah; and the chiefs of that set- tlement, now thoroughly humbled, consented to the terms which Clive dictated. They engaged to build no fortifications, and to raise no troops beyond a small force necessary for the police of their factories ; and it 25 was distinctly provided that any violation of these cove- nants should be punished with instant expulsion from Bengal. Three months after this great victory, Clive sailed for England. At home, honours and rewards awaited 30 him, not indeed equal to his claims or to his ambition, but still such as, when his age, his rank in the army, and his original place in society are considered, must be pronounced rare and splendid. He was raised to the Irish peerage, and encouraged to expect an English title. 35 LOED CLIVE 103 George the Third, who had just ascended the throne, received him with great distinction. The ministers paid him marked attention; and Pitt, whose influence in the House of Commons and in the country was un- 5 bounded, was eager to mark his regard for one whose exploits had contributed so much to the lustre of that memorable period. The great orator had already in Parliament described Clive as a heaven-born general, as a man who, bred to the labour of the desk, had dis- 10 played a military genius which might excite the admira- tion of the King of Prussia. There were then no re- porters in the gallery; but these words, emphatically spoken by the first statesman of the age, had passed from mouth to mouth, had been transmitted to Clive 15 in Bengal, and had greatly delighted and flattered him. Indeed, since the death of Wolfe, Clive was the only English general of whom his countrymen had much reason to be proud. The Duke of Cumberland had been, generally unfortunate; and his single victory, having 20 been gained over his countrymen and used with merci- less severity, had been more fatal to his popularity than his many defeats. Conway, versed in the learning of his profession, and personally courageous, wanted vigour and capacity. Granby, honest, generous, and brave as 25 a lion, had neither science nor genius. Sackville, in- ferior in knowledge and abilities to none of his con- temporaries, had incurred, unjustly as we believe, the imputation most fatal to the character of a soldier. It was under the command of a foreign general that the 30 British had triumphed at Minden and Warburg. The people therefore, as was natural, greeted with pride and delight a captain of their own, whose native cour- age and self-taught skill had placed him on a level with the great tacticians of Germany. 35 The wealth of Clive was such as enabled him to vie 104 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS with the first grandees of England. There remains proof that he had remitted more than a hundred and eighty thousand pounds through the Dutch East India Compan}^, and more than fort}^ thousand pounds through the English Company. The amount which he 5 had sent home through private houses was also con- siderable. He had invested great sums in jewels, then a very common mode of remittance from India. His purchases of diamonds, at Madras alone, amounted to twenty-five thousand pounds. Besides a great mass of lo ready mone}^, he had his Indian estate, valued by him- self at twenty-seven thousand a year. His whole annual income, in the opinion of Sir John Malcolm, who is desirous to state it as low as possible, exceeded forty thousand pounds ; and incomes of forty thousand pounds 15 at the time of the accession of George the Third were at least as rare as incomes of a hundred thousand pounds now. We may safely affirm that no Englishman who started with nothing has ever, in any line of life, cre- ated such a fortune at the early age of thirty-four. 20 It would be unjust not to add that Clive made a creditable use of his riches. As soon as the battle of Plassey had laid the foundation of his fortune, he sent ten thousand pounds to his sisters, bestowed as much more on other poor friends and relations, ordered his 25 agent to pay eight hundred a year to his parents, and to insist that they should keep a carriage, and settled five hundred a year on his old commander Lawrence, whose means were very slender. The whole sum which Clive expended in this manner may be calculated at fifty 30 thousand pounds. • He now set himself to cultivate Parliamentary inter- est. His purchases of land seemed to have been made in a great measure with that view, and, after the general election of 1761, he found himself in the House of Com- 35 LOED CLIVE 105 mons, at the head of a body of dependants whose support must have been important to any administration. In English politics, however, he did not take a prominent part. His first attachments, as we have seen, were to 5 Mr. Fox; at a later period he was attracted by the genius and success of Mr. Pitt ; but finally he connected himself in the closest manner with George Grenville. Early in the session of 1764, when the illegal and im- politic persecution of that worthless demagogue Wilkes 10 had strongly excited the public mind, the town was amused by an anecdote, which we have seen in some un- published memoirs of Horace AYalpole. Old Mr. Eichard Clive, who, since his son's elevation, had been intro- duced into society for which his former habits had not 15 well fitted him, presented himself at the levee. The King asked him where Lord Clive was. "He will be in town very soon,'' said the old gentleman, loud enough to be heard by the whole circle, "and then your Majesty will have another vote." 20 But in truth all Olive's views were directed towards the country in which he had so eminently distinguished himself as a soldier and a statesman ; and it was by con- siderations relating to India that his conduct as a public man in England was regulated. The power of the Oom- 25 pany, though an anomaly, is in our time, we are firmly persuaded, a beneficial anomaly. In the time of Olive^ it was not merely an anomaly, but a nuisance. There w^as no Board of Oontrol. The Directors were for the most part mere traders, ignorant of general politics^ 30 ignorant of the peculiarities of the empire which had strangely become subject to them. The Oourt of Pro- prietors, wherever it chose to interfere, was able to have its way. That Oourt was more numerous, as well as more powerful, than at present ; for then every share of 35 five hundred pounds conferred a vote. The meetings IQQ MACAULAY'S ESSAYS were large, stormy, even riotous, the debates indecently Tirulent. All the turbulence of a Westminster election, all the trickery and corruption of a Grampound election, disgraced the proceedings of this assembly on questions of the most solemn importance. Fictitious votes were 5 manufactured on a gigantic scale. Clive himself laid out a hundred thousand pounds in the purchase of stock, which he then divided among nominal proprietors on whom he could depend, and whom he brought down in his train to every discussion and every ballot. Others 10 did the same, though not to quite so enormous an extent. The interest taken by the public of England in Indian questions was then far greater than at jDresent, and the reason is obvious. At present a writer enters the service young ; he climbs slowly ; he is fortunate if, at forty-five, 15 he can return to his country with an annuity of a thou- sand a year, and with savings amounting to thirty thou- sand pounds. A great quantity of wealth is made by English functionaries in India; but no single func- tionary makes a very large fortune, and what is made is 20 slowly, hardly, and honestly earned. Only four or five high political offices are reserved for public men from England. The residencies, the secretaryships, the seats in the boards of revenue and in the Sudder courts are all filled by men who have given the best jeais of life to 25 the service of the Company; nor can any talents how- ever splendid or any connections however powerful obtain those lucrative posts for any person who has not entered by the regular door, and mounted by the regular gradations. Seventy years ago, less money was brought 30 home from the East than in our time. But it was divided among a very much smaller number of persons, and immense sums w^ere often accumulated in a few months. Any Englishman, whatever his age might be, might hope to be one of the lucky emigrants. If he 35 LOKD CLIVE 107 made a good speech in Leadenhall Street, or published a clever pamphlet in defence of the chairman, he might be sent out in the Company's service, and might return in three or four years as rich as Pigot or as Clive. 5 Thus the India House was a lottery-office, which invited everybody to take a chance, and held out ducal fortunes as the prizes destined for the lucky few. As soon as it was known that there was a part of the world where a lieutenant-colonel had one morning received as a present 10 an estate as large as that of the Earl of Bath or the Marquess of Eockingham, and where it seemed that such a trifle as ten or twenty thousand pounds was to be had by any British functionary for the asking, society began to exhibit all the symptoms of the South Sea year, a 15 feverish excitement, an ungovernable impatience to be rich, a contempt for slow, sure, and moderate gains. At the head of the preponderating party in the India House, had long stood a powerful, able, and ambitious director of the name of Sulivan. He had conceived a 20 strong jealousy of Clive, and remembered with bitter- ness the audacity with which the late governor of Bengal had repeatedly set at nought the authority of the distant Directors of the Company. An apparent reconciliation took place after Clive's arrival; but enmity remained 25 deeply rooted in the hearts of both. The whole body of Directors was then chosen annually. At the election of 1763, Clive attempted to break down the power of the dominant faction. The contest was carried on with a violence which he describes as tremendous. Sulivan 30 was victorious, and hastened to take his revenge. The grant of rent which Clive had received from Meer Jaffier was, in the opinion of the best English lawyers, valid. It had been made by exactly the same authority from which the Company had received its chief posses- 35 sions in Bengal, and the Company had long acquiesced 108 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS in it. The Directors^ however, most unjustly deter- mined to confiscate it, and Clive was forced to tile a bill in chancery against them. But a great and sudden turn in affairs was at hand. Every ship from Bengal had for some time brought 5 alarming tidings. The internal misgovernment of the province had reached such a point that it could go no further. What, indeed, was to be expected from a body of public servants exposed to temptation such that, as Clive once said, flesh and blood could not bear it, armed 10 with irresistible power, and responsible only to the cor- rupt, turbulent, distracted, ill-informed Company, situ- ated at such a distance that the average interval between the sending of a dispatch and the receipt of an answer was above a year and a half ? Accordingly, during the 15 five years which followed the departure of Clive from Bengal, the misgovernment of the English was carried to a point such as seems hardly compatible with the very existence of society. The Eoman proconsul, who, in a year or two, squeezed out of a province the means 20 of rearing marble palaces and baths on the shores of Campania, of drinking from amber, of feasting on sing- ing birds, of exhibiting armies of gladiators and flocks of camelopards; the Spanish viceroy, who, leaving be- hind him the curses of Mexico or Lima, entered Madrid 25 with a long train of gilded coaches, and of sumpter- horses trapped and shod with silver, were now outdone. Cruelty, indeed, properly so called^ was not among the vices of the servants of the Company. But cruelty itself could hardly have produced greater evils than so sprang from their unprincipled eagerness to be rich. They pulled down their creature, Meer Jaffier. They set up in his place another Nabob, named Meer Cossim. But Meer Cossim had parts and a will; and, though sufficiently inclined to oppress his subjects himself, he 35 LOED CLIVE 109 could not bear to see them ground to the dust by oppressions which yielded him no profit, nay, which destroyed his revenue in the very source. The English accordingly pulled down Meer Cossim, and set up Meer 5 Jaffier again ; and Meer Cossim, after revenging himself by a massacre surpassing in atrocity that of the Black Hole, fled to the dominions of the ISTabob of Oude. At every one of these revolutions, the new prince divided among his foreign masters whatever could be scraped 10 together in the treasury of his fallen predecessor. The immense population of his dominions was given up as a prey to those who had made him a sovereign, and who could unmake him. The servants of the Company ob- tained, not for their employers, but for themselves, a 15 monopoly of almost the whole internal trade. They forced the natives to buy dear and to sell cheap. They insulted with impunity the tribunals, the police, and the fiscal authorities of the country. They covered with their protection a set of native dependants who ranged 20 through the provinces, spreading desolation and terror wherever they appeared. Every servant of a British factor was armed with all the power of his master ; and his master was armed with all the power of the Com- pany. Enormous fortunes were thus rapidly accumu- 25 lated at Calcutta, while thirty millions of human beings were reduced to the extremity of wretchedness. They had been accustomed to live under tyranny, but never under tyranny like this. They found the little finger of the Company thicker than the loins of Surajah Dowlah. 30 Under their old masters they had at least one resource : when the evil became insupportable, the people rose and pulled down the government. But the English govern- ment was not to be so shaken off. That government, oppressive as the most oppressive form of barbarian 35 despotism, was strong with all the strength of civiliza- IIQ MACAULAY'S ESSAYS tion. It resembled the government of evil Genii, rather than the government of human tyrants. Even despair could not inspire the soft Bengalee with courage to con- front men of English breed, the hereditary nobility of mankind, whose skill and valour had so often triumphed 5 in spite of tenfold odds. The unhappy race never at- tempted resistance. Sometimes they submitted in patient misery. Sometimes they fled from the white man, as their fathers had been used to fly from the Mahratta ; and the palanquin of the English traveller lo was often carried through silent villages and towns which the report of his approach had made desolate. The foreign lords of Bengal were naturally objects of hatred to all the neighbouring powers; and to all the haughty race presented a dauntless front. The English 15 armies, everywhere outnumbered, were everywhere victo- rious. A succession of commanders, formed in the school of Clive, still maintained the fame of their coun- try. "It must be acknowledged,^^ says the Mussulman historian of those times, "that this nation's presence of 20 mind, firmness of temper, and undaunted bravery, are past all question. They join the most resolute courage to the most cautious prudence; nor have they their equals in the art of ranging themselves in battle array and fighting in order. If to so many military qualifica- 25 tions they knew how to join the arts of government, if they exerted as much ingenuity and solicitude in reliev- ing the people of God, as they do in whatever concerns their military afi^airs, no nation in the world would be preferable to them, or worthier of command. But the 30 people under their dominion groan everywhere, and are reduced to poverty and distress. Oh God ! come to the assistance of thine afflicted servants, and deliver them from the oppressions which they suffer." It was impossible, however, that even the military 85 LOED CLIVE 111 establishment should long continue exempt from the vices which pervaded every other part of the govern- ment. Eapacity, luxury, and the spirit of insubordina- tion spread from the civil service to the officers of the 5 army, and from the officers to the soldiers. The evil continued to grow till every mess-room became the seat of conspiracy and cabal, and till the sepoys could be kept in order only by wholesale executions. At length the state of things in Bengal began to excite 10 uneasiness at home. A succession of revolutions ; a dis- organised administration; the natives pillaged, yet the Company not enriched; every fleet bringing back for- tunate adventurers who were able to purchase manors and to build stately dwellings, yet bringing back also 15 alarming accounts of the financial prospects of the gov- ernment ; war on the frontiers ; disaffection in the army ; the national character disgraced by excesses resembling those of Yerres and Pizarro; such was the spectacle which disma3^ed those who were conversant with Indian 20 affairs. The general cry was that Clive, and Clive alone, could save the empire which he had founded. This feeling manifested itself in the strongest manner at a very full General Court' of Proprietors. Men of all parties, forgetting their feuds and trembling for their 25 dividends, exclaimed that Clive was the man whom the crisis required, that the oppressive proceedings which had been adopted respecting his estate ought to be dropped, and that he ought to be entreated to return to India. 30 Clive rose. As to his estate, he said, he would make such propositions to the Directors, as would, he trusted, lead to an amicable settlement. But there was a still greater difficulty. It was proper to tell them that he never would undertake the government of Bengal while 35 his enemy Sulivan was chairman of the Company. The ]^12 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS tumult was violent. Sulivan could scarcely obtain a hearing. An overwhelming majority of the assembly was on Olive's side. Sulivan wished to try the result of a ballot. But, according to the bye-laws of the Com- pany, there can be no ballot except on a requisition 5 signed by nine proprietors; and, though hundreds were present, nine persons could not be found to set their hands to such a requisition. Clive was in consequence nominated Governor and Commander-in-chief of the British possessions in Ben- lo gal. But he adhered to his declaration, and refused to enter on his office till the event of the next election of Directors should be known. The contest was obstinate ; but Clive triumphed. Sulivan, lately absolute master of the India House, was within a vote of losing his own 15 seat ; and both the chairman and deputy-chairman were friends of the new governor. Such were the circumstances under which Lord Clive sailed for the third and last time to India. In May, 1765, he reached Calcutta; and he found the whole 20 machine of government even more fearfully disorganised than he had anticipated. Meer Jaffier, who had some time before lost his eldest son Meeran, had died while Clive was on his voyage out. The English functionaries at Calcutta had already received from home strict 25 orders not to accept presents from the native princes. But, eager for gain, and unaccustomed to respect the commands of their distant, ignorant, and negligent mas- ters, they again set up the throne of Bengal to sale. About one hundred and forty thousand pounds sterling 30 was distributed among nine of the most powerful ser- vants of the Company; and, in consideration of this bribe, an infant son of the deceased N"abob was placed on the seat of his father. The news of the ignominious bargain met Clive on his arrival. In a private letter, 35 LOED CLIVE 113 written immediately after his landing, to an intimate friend, he poured out his feelings in language, which, proceeding from a man of so daring, so resolute, and so little given to theatrical display of sentiment, seems to 5 us singularly touching. "Alas V he says, "how is the English name sunk ! I could not avoid paying the tribute of a few tears to the departed and lost fame of the British nation — irrevocably so, I fear. However, I do declare, by that great Being who is the searcher of 10 all hearts, and to whom we must be accountable if there be a hereafter, that I am come out with a mind superior to all corruption, and that I am determined to destroy these great and growing evils, or perish in the attempt.'^ The Council met, and Clive stated to them his full 15 determination to make a thorough reform, and to use for that purpose the whole of the ample authority, civil and military, which had been confided to him. Johnstone, one of the boldest and worst men in the assembly, made some show of opposition. Clive interrupted him, and 20 haughtily demanded whether he meant to question the power of the new government. Johnstone was cowed; and disclaimed any such intention. All the faces round the board grew long and pale ; and not another syllable of dissent was uttered. 25 Clive redeemed his pledge. He remained in India about a year and a half ; and in that short time effected one of the most extensive, difficult, and salutary reforms that ever was accomplished by any statesman. This was the part of his life on which he afterwards looked back 30 with most pride. He had it in his power to triple his already splendid fortune ; to connive at abuses while pre- tending to remove them; to conciliate the goodwill of all the English in Bengal, by giving up to their rapacity a helpless and timid race, who knew not where lay the 35 island which sent forth their oppressors, and whose 114 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS complaints had little chance of being heard across fifteen thousand miles of ocean. He knew that if he applied himself in earnest to the work of reformation, he should raise every bad passion in arms against him. He knew how unscrupulous, how implacable, would be 5 the hatred of those ravenous adventurers who, having counted on accumulating in a few months fortunes suffi- cient to support- peerages, should find all their hopes frustrated. But he had chosen the good part; and he called up all the force of his mind for a battle far lo harder than that of Plassey. At first success seemed hopeless ; but soon all obstacles began to bend before that iron courage and that vehement will. The receiving of presents from the natives was rigidly prohibited. The private trade of the servants of the Company was put 15 down. The whole settlement seemed to be set, as one man, against these measures. But the inexorable gov- ernor declared that, if he could not find support at Fort William, he would procure it elsewhere, and sent for some civil servants from Madras to assist him in 20 carrying on the administration. The most factious of his opponents he turned out of their offices. The rest submitted to what was inevitable; and in a very short time all resistance was quelled. But Clive was far too wise a man not to see that the 25 recent abuses were partly to be ascribed .to a cause which could not fail to produce similar abuses, as soon as the pressure of his strong hand was withdrawn. The Company had followed a mistaken policy with respect to the remuneration of its servants. The salaries were 30 too low to afford even those indulgences which are neces- sary to the health and comfort of Europeans in a tropical climate. To lay by a rupee from such scanty pay was impossible. It could not be supposed that men of even average abilities would consent to pass the best 35 LOED CLIVE 115 years of life in exile, under a burning sun, for no other consideration than these stinted wages. It had accord- ingly been understood, from a very early period, that the Company's agents were at liberty to enrich them- 5 selves by their private trade. This practice had been seriously injurious to the commercial interests of the cor- poration. That very intelligent observer. Sir Thomas Eoe, in the reign of James the First, strongly urged the Directors to apply a remedy to the abuse. "Absolutely 10 prohibit the private trade," said he ; "for your business will be better done. I know this is harsh. Men pro- fess they come not for bare wages. But you will take away this plea if you give great w^ages to their content ; and then you know what you part from." 15 In spite of this excellent advice, the Company adhered to the old system, paid low salaries, and connived at the indirect gains of the agents. The pay of a member of the Council was only three hundred pounds a year. Yet it was notorious that such a functionary could not live 20 in India for less than ten times that sum ; and it could not be expected that he would be content to live even handsomely in India without laying up something against the time of his return to England. This system, before the conquest of Bengal, might affect the amount of 25 the dividends payable to the proprietors, but could do little harm in any other way. But the Company was now a ruling bod}^ Its servants might still be called factors, junior merchants, senior merchants. But they were in truth proconsuls, propraetors, procurators, of 30 extensive regions. They had immense power. Their regular pay was universally admitted to be insufficient. They were, by the ancient usage of the service, and by the implied permission of their employers, warranted in enriching themselves by indirect means; and this had 35 been the origin of their frightful oppression and cor- 116 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS ruption which had desolated Bengal. Cliye saw clearly that it was absurd to give men power, and to require them to live in penury. He justly concluded that no reform could be effectual which should not be coupled with a plan for liberally remunerating the civil servants 5 of the Company. The Directors, he knew, were not dis- posed to sanction any increase of the salaries out of their own treasury. The only course which remained open to the governor was one which exposed him to much mis- representation, but which we think him fully justified lo in adopting. He appropriated to the support of the service the monopoly of salt, which has formed, down to our own time, a principal head of Indian revenue; and he divided the proceeds according to a scale which seems to have been not unreasonably fixed. He was in lb consequence accused by his enemies, and has been ac- cused by historians, of disobeying his instructions, of violating his promises, of authorising that very abuse which it was his special mission to destroy, namely, the trade of the Company's servants. But every discerning 20 and impartial judge will admit, that there was really nothing in common between the system which he set up and that which he was sent to destroy. The monopoly of salt had been a source of revenue to the Government of India before Clive was born. It continued to be so 25 long after his death. The civil servants were clearly entitled to a maintenance out of the revenue; and all that Clive did was to charge a particular portion of the revenue with their maintenance. He thus, while he put an end to the practices by which gigantic fortunes had 30 been rapidly accumulated, gave to every British func- tionary employed in the East the means of slowly, but surely, acquiring a competence. Yet, such is the injus- tice of mankind, that none of those acts which are the real stains of his life has drawn on him so much obloquy 35 LOED CLIYE 117 as this measure, which was in truth a reform necessary to the success of all his other reforms. He had quelled the opposition of the civil servants: that of the army was more formidable. Some of the 5 retrenchments which had been ordered by the Directors affected the interests of the military service; and a storm arose, such as even Csesar would not willingly have faced. It was no light thing to encounter the resistance of those who held the power of the sword, 10 in a country governed only by the sword. Two hundred English officers engaged in a conspiracy against the gov- ernment, and determined to resign their commissions on the same day, not doubting that Clive would grant any terms, rather than see the army, on which alone the 15 British empire in the East rested, left without com- manders. They little knew the imconquerable spirit with which they had to deal. Clive had still a few officers round his person on whom he could rely. He sent to Fort St. George for a fresh supply. He gave 20 commissions even to mercantile agents who were dis- posed to support him at this crisis; and he sent orders that every officer who resigned should be instantly brought up to Calcutta. The conspirators found that they had miscalculated. The governor was inexorable. 25 The troops were steady. The sepoys, over whom Clive had always possessed extraordinary influence, stood by him with unshaken fidelity. The leaders in the plot were arrested, tried, and cashiered. The rest, humbled and dispirited, begged to be permitted to withdraw their 30 resignations. Many of them declared their repentance even with tears. The younger offenders Clive treated with lenity. To the ringleaders he was inflexibly severe ; but his severity was pure from all taint of private malev- olence. 'While he sternly upheld the just authority of 35 his office, he passed by personal insults and injuries with 118 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS magnanimous disdain. One of the conspirators was ac- cused of having planned the assassination of the gov- ernor; but Clive would not listen to the charge. "The officers/^ he said^ "are Englishmen, not assassins." While he reformed the civil service and established his 5 authority over the army, he was equally successful in his foreign policy. His landing on Indian ground was the signal for immediate peace. The ISTabob of Oude, with a large army, lay at that time on the frontier of Bahar. He had been joined by many Afghans and Mah- 10 rattas, and there was no small reason to expect a general coalition of all the native powers against the English. But the name of Clive quelled in an instant all opposi- tion. The enemy implored peace in the humblest lan- guage, and submitted to such terms as the new governor 15 chose to dictate. At the same time, the Government of Bengal was placed on a new footing. The power of the English in that province had hitherto been altogether undefined. It was unknown to the ancient constitution of the em- 20 pire, and it had been ascertained by no compact. It resembled the power which, in the last decrepitude of the Western Empire, was exercised over Italy by the great chiefs of foreign mercenaries, the Eicimers and the Odoacers, who put up and pulled down at their 25 pleasure a succession of insignificant princes, dignified with the names of Caesar and Augustus. But as in Italy, so in India, the warlike strangers at length found it expedient to give to a domination which had been established by arms the sanction of law and ancient pre- 30 scription. Theodoric thought it politic to obtain from the distant Court of Byzantium a commission appoint- ing him ruler of Italy ; and Clive, in the same manner, applied to the Court of Delhi for a formal grant of the powers of which he alread}^ possessed the reality. The 35 LOED CIJVE 119 Mogul was absolutely helpless; and, though he mur- mured, had reason to be well pleased that the English were disposed to give solid rupees, which he never could have extorted from them, in exchange for a few Persian 5 characters which cost him nothing. A bargain was speedily struck; and the titular sovereign of Hindostan issued a warrant, empowering the Company to collect and administer the revenues of Bengal, Orissa, and Bahar. 10 There was still a Nabob, who stood to the British authorities in the same relation in which the last drivelling Chilperics and Childerics of the Merovingian line stood to their able and vigorous Mayors of the Palace, to Charles Martel, and to Pepin. At one time 15 Clive had almost made up his mind to discard this phan- tom altogether ; but he afterwards thought that it might be convenient still to use the name of the Nabob, par- ticularly in dealings with other European nations. The French, the Dutch, and the Danes, would, he conceived, 20 submit far more readily to the authority of the native Prince, whom they had always been accustomed to respect, than to that of a rival trading corporation. This policy may, at that time, have been judicious. But the pretence was soon found to be too flimsy to impose on 25 anybody ; and it was altogether laid aside. The heir of Meer Jaffier still resides at Moorshedabad, the ancient capital of his house, still bears the title of Nabob, is still accosted by the English as "Your Highness,^' and is still suffered to retain a portion of the regal state which 30 surrounded his ancestors. A pension of a hundred and sixty thousand pounds a year is annually paid to him by the government. His carriage is surrounded by guards, and preceded by attendants with silver maces. His per- son and his dwellings are exempted from the ordinary 35 authority of the ministers of justice. But he has not 120 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS the smallest share of political power, and is, in fact, only a noble and wealthy subject of the Company. It would have been easy for Clive, during his second administration in Bengal, to accumulate riches such as no subject in Europe possessed. He might, indeed, 5 without subjecting the rich inhabitants -of the province to any pressure beyond that to which their mildest rulers had accustomed them, have received presents to the amount of .three hundred thousand pounds a year. The neighbouring princes would gladly have paid any lo price for his favour. But he appears to have strictly adhered to the rules which he had laid down for the guidance of others. The Eajah of Benares offered him diamonds of great value. The Xabob of Oude pressed him to accept a large sum of money and a casket of 15 costly jewels. Clive courteously, but peremptorily re- fused ; and it should be observed that he made no merit of his refusal, and that the facts did not come to light till after his death. He kept an exact account of his salary, of his share of the profits accruing from the 20 trade in salt, and of those presents which, according to the fashion of the East, it would be churlish to refuse. Out of the sum arising from these resources, he defrayed the expenses of his situation. The surplus he divided among a few attached friends who had accompanied him 25 to India. He always boasted, and as far as we can judge, he boasted with truth, that this last administra- tion diminished instead of increasing his fortune. One large sum indeed he accepted. Meer Jaffier had left him by will about sixty thousand pounds sterling 30 in specie and jewels : and the rules which had been recently laid down extended only to presents from the living, and did not affect legacies from the dead. Clive took the money, but not for himself. He made the whole over to the Company, in trust for officers and sol- 35 LOED CLIVE 121 diers invalided in their service. The fund which still" bears his name owes its origin to this princely donation. After a stay of eighteen months, the state of his health made it necessary for him to return to Europe. At the 5 close of January, 1767, he quitted for the last time the country, on whose destinies he had exercised so mighty an influence. His second return from Bengal was not, like his first, greeted by the acclamations of his countrymen. Numer- 10 ous causes were already at work which embittered the remaining years of his life, and hurried him to an untimely grave. His old enemies at the India House were still powerful and active ; and they had been rein- forced by a large band of allies whose violence far 15 exceeded their own. The whole crew of pilferers and oppressors from whom he had rescued Bengal persecuted him with the implacable rancour which belongs to such abject natures. Many of them even invested their property in India stock, merely that they might be better 20 able to annoy the man whose firmness had set bounds to their rapacity. Lying newspapers were set up for no purpose but to abuse him; and the temper of the public mind was then such, that these arts, which under ordinary circumstances would have been ineffectual 25 against truth and merit, produced an extraordinary im- pression. The great events which had taken place in India had called into existence a new class of Englishmen, to w^hom their countrymen gave the name of jN'abobs. These 30 persons had generally sprung from families neither an- cient nor opulent; they had generally been sent at an early age to the East ; and they had there acquired large fortunes, which they had brought back to their native land. It was natural that, not having had much oppor- 35 tunity of mixing with the best society, they should 122 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS exhibit some of the awkwardness and some of the pom- posity of upstarts. It was natural that, during their sojourn in Asia, they should have acquired some tastes and habits surprising, if not disgusting, to persons who never had quitted Europe. It was natural that, having 5 enjo3^ed great consideration in the East, they should not be disposed to sink into obscurity at home; and as they had money, and had not birth or high connection, it was natural that they should display a little obtrusively the single advantage which they possessed. Wherever they 10 settled there was a kind of feud between them and the old nobility and gentry, similar to that which raged in Erance between the farmer-general and the marquess. This enmity to the aristocracy long continued to dis- tinguish the servants of the Company. More than 15 twenty years after the time of which we are now speak- ing, Burke pronounced that among the Jacobins might be reckoned "the East Indians almost to a man, who cannot bear to find that their present importance does not bear a proportion to their wealth.^^ 20 The Nabobs soon became a most unpopular class of men. Some of them had in the East displayed eminent talents, and rendered great services to the state; but at home their talents were not shown to advantage, and their services were little known. That they had sprung 25 from "obscurity, that they had acquired great wealth, that they exhibited it insolently, that they spent it ex- travagantly, that they raised the price of everything in their neighbourhood, from fresh eggs to rotten boroughs, that their liveries outshone those of dukes, that their 30 coaches were finer than that of the Lord Mayor, that the examples of their large and ill-governed households cor- rupted half the servants in the country, that some of them, with all their magnificence, could not catch the tone of good society, but, in spite of the stud and the 35 LOED CLIVE 123 crowd of menials, of the jDlate and the Dresden china, of the venison and the Burgundy, were still low men; these were things which excited, both in the class from which they sprung and in the class into which they at- 5 tempted to force themselves, the bitter aversion which is the effect of mingled envy and contempt. But when it was also rumoured that the fortune which had enabled its possessor to eclipse the Lord Lieutenant on the race- ground, or to carry the county against the head of a 10 house as old as Domesday Book, had been accumulated by violating public faith, by deposing legitimate princes, by reducing whole j^rovinces to beggary, all the higher and better as well as all the low and evil parts of human nature were stirred against the wretch who had obtained 15 by guilt and dishonour the riches which he now lavished with arrogant and inelegant profusion. The unfortu- nate Xabob seemed to be made up of those foibles against which comedy has pointed the most merciless ridicule, and of those crimes which have thrown the deepest gloom 20 over traged}^ of Turcaret and [N'ero, of Monsieur Jour- dain and Eichard the Third. A tempest of execration and derision, such as can be compared only to that out- break of public feeling against the Puritans which took place at the time of the Eestoration, burst on the servants 25 of the Company. The humane man was horror-struck at the way in which they had got their money, the thrifty man at the way in which they spent it. The Dilettante sneered, at their want of taste. The Macca- roni black-balled them as vulgar fellows. Writers the 30 most unlike in sentiment and style, Methodists and lib- ertines, philosophers and buffoons, were for once on the same side. It is hardly too much to say that, during a space of about thirty years, the whole lighter literature of England was coloured by the feelings which we have 35 described. Foote brought on the stage an Anglo-Indian 124 MACAULAY 'S ESSAYS chief, dissolute, ungenerous, and tyrannical, ashamed of the humble friends of his youth, hating the aristocracy, yet childishly eager to be numbered among them, squan- dering his wealth on pandars and flatterers, tricking out his chairmen with the most costly hot-house flowers, and 5 astounding the ignorant with jargon about rupees, lacs, and jaghires. Mackenzie, with more delicate humour, depicted a plain country family raised by the Indian acquisitions of one of its meml^ers to sudden opulence, and exciting derision by an awkward mimicry of the 10 manners of the great. Cowper, in that lofty expostula- tion which gJows with the very spirit of the Hebrew poets, placed the oppression of India foremost in the list of those national crimes for which God had punished England with years of disastrous war, with discomfiture 15 in her own seas, and with the loss of her transatlantic empire. If any of our readers will take the trouble to search in the dusty recesses of circulating libraries for some novel published sixty years ago, the chance is that the villain or sub-villain of the story will prove to be 20 a savage old Xabob, with an immense fortune, a tawny complexion, a bad liver, and a worse heart. Such, as far as we can now judge, was the feeling of the country respecting Nabobs in general. And Clive was eminently the Nabob, the ablest, the most celebrated, 25 the highest in rank, the highest in fortune, of all the fraternity. His wealth was exhibited in a manner which could not fail to excite odium. He lived with great magnificence in Berkeley Square. He reared one palace in Shropshire and another at Claremont. His 30 parliamentary influence might vie with that of the great- est families. But in all this splendour and power envy found something to sneer at. On some of his relations wealth and dignity seem to have sat as awkwardly as on Mackenzie's Margery Mushroom. Nor was he himself, 35 LOED CLIVE 125 with all his great qualities, free from those weaknesses which the satirists of that age represented as character- 5 istic of his whole class. In the field, indeed, his habits were remarkably simple. He was constantly on horse- back, was never seen but in his uniform, never wore silk, never entered a palanquin, and was content with the plainest fare. But when he was no longer at the head of an army, he laid aside this Spartan temperance for the ostentatious luxury of a Sybarite. Though his per- 10 son was ungraceful, and though his harsh features were redeemed from vulgar ugliness only by their stern, dauntless, and commanding expression, he was fond of rich and gay clothing, and replenished his wardrobe with absurd profusion. Sir John Malcolm gives us a letter 15 worthy of Sir Matthew Mite, in which Clive orders "two hundred shirts, the best and finest that can be got for love or money." A few follies of this description, grossly exaggerated by report, produced an unfavourable impression on the public mind. But this was not the 20 worst. Black stories, of which the greater part were pure inventions, were circulated touching his conduct in the East. He had to bear the whole odium, not only of those bad acts to which he had once or twice stooped, but of all the bad acts of all the English in India, of bad 25 acts committed when he was absent, nay, of bad acts which he had manfully opposed and severely punished. The very abuses against which he had waged an honest, resolute, and successful war were laid to his account. He was, in fact, regarded as the personification of all 30 the vices and weaknesses which the public, with or with- out reason, ascribed to the English adventurers in Asia. We have ourselves heard old men, who knew nothing of his history, but who still retained the prejudices con- ceived in their youth, talk of him as an incarnate fiend. 35 Johnson always held this language. BrowTi, whom 126 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS Clive employed to lay out his pleasure grounds, was amazed to see in the honse of his noble employer a chest which had once been filled with gold from the treasury of Moorshedabad, and could not understand how the conscience of the criminal could suffer him to sleep with 5 such an object so near to his bedchamber. The peas- antry of Surrey looked with mysterious horror on the stately house which was rising at Claremont, and whis- pered that the great wicked lord had ordered the walls to be made so thick in order to keep out the devil, who lo would one day carry him away bodily. Among the gaping clowns who drank in this frightful story was a worthless ugly lad of the name of Hunt, since widely known as William Huntington, S.S.; and the supersti- tion which was strangely mingled with the knavery of 15 that remarkable impostor seems to have derived no small nutriment from the tales which he heard of the life and character of Clive. In the meantime, the impulse which Clive had given to the administration of Bengal was constantly becoming 2a fainter and fainter. His policy was to a great extent abandoned; the abuses which he had suppressed began to revive; and at length the evils which a bad govern- ment had engendered were aggravated by one of those fearful visitations which the best government cannot 25 avert. In the summer of 1770, the rains failed; the earth was parched up ; the tanks were empty ; the rivers shrank within their beds; and a famine, such as is known only in countries where every household depends for support on its own little patch of cultivation, filled 30 the whole valley of the Ganges with misery and death. Tender and delicate women, whose veils had never been lifted before the public gaze, came forth from the inner chambers in which Eastern jealousy had kept watch over their beauty, threw themselves on the earth 35 LOED CLIVE 127 before the passers-by, and, with loud wailings, implored a handful of rice for their children. The Hoogley every day rolled down thousands of corpses close to the porti- coes and gardens of the English conquerors. The very 5 streets of Calcutta were blocked up by the d3dng and the dead. The lean and feeble survivors had not energy enough to bear the bodies of their kindred to the funeral pile or to the holy river, or even to scare away the jackals and vidtures, who fed on human remains in the 10 face of day. The extent of the mortality was never ascertained; but it was popularly reckoned by millions. This melancholy intelligence added to the excitement which already prevailed in England on Indian subjects. The proprietors of East India stock were uneasy about 15 their dividends. All men of common humanity were touched by the calamities of our unhappy subjects ; and indignation soon began to mingle itself with pity. It was rumoured that the Company's servants had created the famine by engrossing all the rice of the country; 20 that they had sold grain for eight, ten, twelve times the price at which they had bought it; that one English functionary who, the year before, was not w^orth a hun- dred guineas, had, during that season of misery remitted sixty thousand pounds to London. These charges we 25 believe to have been unfounded. That servants of the Company had ventured, since Clive's departure, to deal in rice, is probable. That, if they dealt in rice, they must have gained by the scarcity, is certain. But there is no reason for thinking that they either produced or 30 aggravated an evil which physical causes sufficiently ex- plain. The outcry which was raised against them on this occasion was, we suspect, as absurd as the imputa- tions which, in times of dearth at home, were once thrown by statesmen and judges, and are still thrown by two or 35 three old women, on the corn factors. It was, however. 128 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS SO loud and so general tliat it appears to have imposed even on an intellect raised so high above vulgar preju- dices as that of Adam Smith. What was still more extraordinary, these unhappy events greatly increased the unpopularity of Lord Clive. He had been some years 5 in England when the famine took place. None of his acts had the smallest tendency to produce such a calam- ity. If the servants of the Company had traded in rice, they had done so in direct contravention of the rule which he had laid down, and, while in power, had reso- 10 lutely enforced. But, in the eyes of his countrymen, he was, as we have said, the Nabob, the Anglo-Indian char- acter personified; and, while he was building and plant- ing in Surrey, he was held responsible for all the effects of a dry season in Bengal. 15 Parliament had hitherto bestowed very little attention on our Eastern possessions. Since the death of George the Second, a rapid succession of weak administrations, each of which was in turn flattered and betrayed by the Court, had held the semblance of power. Intrigues in 20 the palace, riots in the capital, and insurrectionary movements in the American colonies, had left the ad- visers of the Crown little leisure to study Indian politics. A^Tien they did interfere, their interference was feeble and irresolute. Lord Chatham, indeed, during the short 25 period of his ascendency in the councils of George the Third, had meditated a bold attack on the Company. But his plans were rendered abortive by the strange malady which about that time began to overcloud his splendid genius. 30 At length, in 1772, it was generally felt that Parlia- ment could no longer neglect the affairs of India. The Government was stronger than any which had held power since the breach between Mr. Pitt and the great Whig connection in 1761. No pressing question of 35 LOED CLIVE 129 domestic or European policy required tlie attention of public men. There was a short and delusive lull be- tween two tempests. The excitement produced by the Middlesex election was over ; the discontents of America 5 did not yet threaten civil war ; the financial difficulties of the Company brought on a crisis ; the Ministers were forced to take up the subject; and the whole storm, which had long been gathering, now broke at once on the head of Clive. 10 His situation was indeed singularly unfortunate. He was hated throughout the country, hated at the India House, hated, above all, by those wealthy and powerful servants of the Company, whose rapacity and tyranny he had withstood. He had to bear the double odium of 15 his bad and of his good actions, of every Indian abuse and of every Indian reform. The state of the political world was such that he could count on the support of no powerful connection. The party to which he had be- longed, that of George Grenville, had been hostile to the 20 Government, and yet had never cordially united with the other sections of the Opposition, with the little band which still followed the fortunes of Lord Chatham, or with the large and respectable body of which Lord Rockingham was the acknowledged leader. George 25 Grenville was now dead : his followers were scattered ; and Clive, unconnected with any of the powerful fac- tions which divided the Parliament, could reckon only on the votes of those members who were returned by himself. His enemies, particularly those who were the 30 enemies of his virtues, were unscrupulous, ferocious, im- placable. Their malevolence aimed at nothing less than the utter ruin of his fame and fortune. They wished to see him expelled from Parliament, to see his spurs chopped off, to see his estate confiscated; and it may be 130 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS doubted wlietlier even such a result as this would have quenched their thirst for revenge. Clivers parliamentary tactics resembled his military tactics. Deserted, surrounded, outnumbered, and with everything at stake, he did not even deign to stand on 5 the defensive, but pushed boldly forward to the attack. At an early stage of the discussions on Indian affairs he rose, and in a long and elaborate speech vindicated himself from a large part of the accusations which had been brought against him* He is said to have produced 10 a great impression on his audience. Lord Chatham, who, now the ghost of his former self, loved to haunt the scene of his glory, was that night under the gallery of the House of Commons, and declared that he had never heard a finer speech. It was subsequently printed 15 under Clive's direction, and, when the fullest allow- ance has been made for the assistance which he may have obtained from literary friends, proves him to have possessed, not merely strong sense and a manly spirit, but talents both for disquisition and declamation which 20 assiduous culture might have improved into the high- est excellence. He confined his defence on this occa- sion to the measures of his last administration, and suc- ceeded so far that his enemies thenceforth thought it expedient to direct their attacks chiefly against the 25 earlier part of his life. The earlier part of his life unfortunately presented some assailable points to their hostility. A committee was chosen by ballot to inquire into the affairs of India ; and by this committee the whole history of that great 30 revolution which threw down Surajah Dowlah and raised Meer Jaffier was sifted with malignant care. Clive was subjected to the most unsparing examination and cross- examination, and afterwards bitterly complained that he, the Baron of Plassey, had been treated like a sheep- 35 LOED CLIVE 131 stealer. The boldness and ingenuousness of his replies would alone suffice to show how alien from his nature were the frauds to which, in the course of his Eastern negotiations, he had sometimes descended. He avowed 5 the arts which he had employed to deceive Omichund, and resolutely said that he was not ashamed of them, and that, in the same circumstances, he would again act in the same manner. He admitted that he had re- ceived immense sums from Meer Jaffier; but he denied 10 that, in doing so, he had violated any obligation of morality or honour. He laid claim, on the contrary^ and not without some reason, to the praise of eminent disinterestedness. He described in vivid language the situation in which his victory had placed him: great 15 princes dependent on his pleasure ; an opulent city afraid of being given up to plunder; wealthy bankers bid- ding against each other for his smiles ; vaults piled with gold and jewels thrown open to him alone. ^^By God^ Mr. Chairman,'^ he exclaimed, "at this moment I stand 20 astonished at my own moderation.'^ The inquiry was so extensive that the Houses rose before it had been completed. It was continued in the following session. When at length the committee had concluded its labours, enlightened and impartial men 25 had little difficulty in making up their minds as to the result. It was clear that Clive had been gnilty of some acts which it is impossible to vindicate without attack- ing the authority of all the most sacred laws which regulate the intercourse of individuals and of states, 30 But it was equally clear that he had displayed great talents, and even great virtues; that he had rendered eminent services both to his country and to the people of India; and that it was in truth not for his dealings with Meer Jaffier, nor for the fraud which he had prac- X32 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS tised on Omichund, but for his determined resistance to avarice and tyranny, that he was now called in question. Ordinary criminal justice knows nothing of set-off. The greatest desert cannot be pleaded in answer to a charge of the slightest transgression. If a man has 5 sold beer on a Sunday morning, it is no defence that he has saved the life of a fellow-creature at the risk of his own. If he has harnessed a Newfoundland dog to his little child's carriage, it is no defence that he was wounded at Waterloo. But it is not in this way that lo we ought to deal with men who, raised far above ordi- nary restraints, and tried by far more than ordinary temptations, are entitled to a more than ordinary meas- ure of indulgence. Such men should be judged by their contemporaries as they will be judged by posterity. 15 Their bad actions ought not indeed to be called good; but their good and bad actions ought to be fairly weighed; and if on the whole the good preponderate, the sentence ought to be one, not merely of acquittal, but of approbation. Not a single great ruler in history 20 can be absolved by a judge who fixes his eye inexorably on one or two unjustifiable acts. Bruce the deliverer of Scotland, Maurice the deliverer of Germany, William the deliverer of Holland, his great descendant the de- liverer of England, Murray the good regent, Cosmo the 25 father of his country, Henry the Fourth of France, Peter the Great of Eussia, how would the best of them pass such a scrutiny? History takes wider views; and the best tribunal for great political cases is the tribunal which anticipates the verdict of history. 30 Eeasonable and moderate men of all parties felt this in .dive's case. They could not pronounce him blame- less; but they were not disposed to abandon him to that low-minded and rancorous pack who had run him down and were eager to worry him to death. Lord 25 LOED CLIVE 133 North, though not very friendly to him, was not dis- posed to go to extremities against him. While the in- quiry was still in progress, Clive, who had some years before been created a Knight of the Bath, was installed 5 with great pomp in Henry the Seventh's Chapel. He was soon after appointed Lord Lieutenant of Shrop- shire. When he kissed hands, ' George the "Third, who had alwaj^s been partial to him, admitted him to a pri- vate audience, talked to him half an hour on Indian 10 politics, and was visibly affected when the persecuted general spoke of his services and of the way in which they had been requited. At length the charges came in a definite foiTa before the House of Commons. Burgoyne, chairman of the 15 committee, a man of wit, fashion, and honour, an agree- able dramatic writer, an officer whose courage was never questioned, and whose skill was at that time highly esteemed, appeared as the accuser. The members of the administration took different sides; for in that age 20 all questions were open questions, except such as were brought forward by the government, or such as implied censure on the Government. Thurlow, the Attorney- General, was among the assailants. Wedderburne, the Solicitor-General, strongly attached to Clive, defended 25 his friend with extraordinary force of argument and language. It is a curious circumstance that, some years later, Thurlow was the most conspicuous champion of Warren Hastings, while Wedderburne was among the most unrelenting persecutors of that great though not 30 faultless statesman. Clive spoke in his own defence at less length and with less art than in the preceding year, but with much energy and pathos. He recounted his great actions and his wrongs; and, after bidding his hearers remember, that they were about to decide not 134 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS only on his honour but on their own, he retired from the House. The Commons resolved that acquisitions made by the arms of the State belong to the State alone, and that it is illegal in the servants of the State to appropriate such acquisitions to themselves. They resolved that this wholesome rule appeared to have been systematic- ally violated by the English functionaries in Bengal. On a subsequent day they went a step further, and resolved that Clive had, by means of the power which lo he possessed as commander of the British forces in India, obtained large sums from Meer Jaffier. Here the Commons stopped. They had voted the major and minor of Burgoyne's syllogism; but they shrank from drawing the logical conclusion. When it was moved 15 that Lord Clive had abused his powers, and set an evil example to the servants of the public, the previous question was put and carried. At length, long after the sun had risen on an animated debate, Wedderburne moved that Lord Clive had at the same time rendered 20 great and meritorious services to his country; and this motion passed without a division. The result of this memorable inquiry appears to us, on the whole, honourable to the justice, moderation, and discernment of the Commons. They had indeed no 25 great temptation to do wrong. They would have been very bad judges of an accusation brought against Jen- kinson or against Wilkes. But the question respecting Clive was not a party question; and the House accord- ingly acted with the good sense and good feeling which 30 may always be expected from an assembly of English gentlemen, not blinded by faction. The equitable and temperate proceedings of the Brit- ish Parliament were set off to the greatest advantage by a foil. The wretched government of Louis the Fif- 35 LOED CLIVE 135 teentli had murdered, directly or indirectly, almost every Frenchman who had served his country with distinction in the East. Labourdonnais was flung into the Bastile, and, after years of suffering, left it only to die. Dupleix, 5 stripped of his immense fortune, and broken-hearted by humiliating attendance in ante-chambers, sank into an obscure grave. Lally was dragged to the common place of execution with a gag between his lips. The Commons of England, on the other hand, treated their living cap- 10 tain with that discriminating justice which is seldom shown except to the dead. They laid down sound gen- eral principles ; they delicately pointed out where he had deviated from those principles; and they tempered the gentle censure with liberal eulogy. The contrast struck 15 Voltaire, always partial to England, and always eager to expose the abuses of the Parliaments of France. In- deed he seems, at this time, to have meditated a history of the conquest of Bengal. He mentioned his design to Dr. Moore, when that amusing writer visited him at 20 Ferney. Wedderburne took great interest in the mat- ter, and pressed Clive to furnish materials. Had the plan been carried into execution, we have no doubt that Voltaire would have produced a book containing much lively and picturesque narrative, many just and humane 25 sentiments poignantly expressed, many grotesque blun- ders, many sneers at the Mosaic chronology, much scan- dal about the Catholic missionaries, and much sublime theo-philanthropy, stolen from the New Testament, and put into the mouths of virtuous and philosophical 30 Brahmins. Clive was now secure in the enjoyment of his fortune and his honours. He was surrounded. by attached friends and relations; and he had not yet passed the season of vigorous bodily and mental exertion. But clouds had 35 long been gathering over his mind, and now settled on 136 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS it in thick darkness. From early yonth he had been subject to fits of that strange melancholy "which re- joiceth exceedingly and is glad when it can find the grave.'^ While still a writer at Madras, he had twice attempted to destroy himself. Business and prosperity 5 had produced a salutary effect on his spirits. In India, while he was occupied by great affairs, in England, while wealth and rank had still the charm of novelt}^, he had borne up against his constitutional miser}^ But he had now nothing to do, and nothing to wish for. lo His active spirit in an inactive situation drooped and withered like a plant in an uncongenial air. The malig- nity with which his enemies had pursued him, the indig- nity with which he had been treated by the committee, the censure, lenient as it was, which the House of Com- 15 mons had pronounced, the knowledge that he was re- garded by a large portion of his countrymen as a cruel and perfidious tyrant, all concurred to irritate and de- press him. In the meantime, his temper was tried by acute physical suffering. During his long residence in 20 tropical climates, he had contracted several painful dis- tempers. In order to obtain ease he called in the help of opium ; and he was gradually enslaved by this treach- erous ally. To the last, however, his genius occasionally flashed through the gloom. It was said that he would 25 sometimes, after sitting silent and torpid for hours, rouse himself to the discussion of some great question, would display in full vigour all the talents of the soldier and the statesman, and would then sink back into his melancholy repose. 30 The disputes with America had now become so seri- ous that an appeal to the sword seemed inevitable; and the Ministers were desirous to avail themselves of the services of Clive. Had he still been what he was when he raised the siege of Patna and annihilated the Dutch 35 LOED CLIVE 137 army and navy at the mouth of the Ganges, it is not improbable that the resistance of the colonists would have been put down, and that the inevitable separation would have been deferred for a few years. But it was 5 too late. His strong mind was fast sinking under many kinds of suffering. On the twenty-second of November, 1774, he died by his own hand. He had just completed his forty-ninth year. In the awful close of so much prosperity and glory, 10 the vulgar saw only a confirmation of all their preju- dices; and some men of real piety and genius so far forgot the maxims both of religion and of philosophy as confidently to ascribe the mournful event to the just vengeance of God, and to the horrors of an evil con- 15 science. It is with very different feelings that we con- template the spectacle of a great mind ruined by the weariness of satiety, by the pangs of wounded honour, by fatal diseases, and more fatal remedies. Clive committed great faults; and we have not at- 20 tempted to disguise them. But his faults, when weighed against his merits, and viewed in connection with his temptations, do not appear to us to deprive him of his right to an honourable place in the estima- tion of posterity. 25 From his first visit to India dates the renown of the English arms in the East. Till he appeared, his coun- trymen were despised as mere pedlars, while the French were revered as a people formed for victory and command. His courage and capacity dissolved the 30 charm. With the defence of Arcot commences that long series of Oriental triumphs which closes with the fall of Ghizni. Nor must we forget that he was only twenty-five years old when he approved himself ripe for military command. This is a rare if not a singular 35 distinction. It is true that Alexander, Conde, and X38 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS diaries tlie Twelfth, won great battles at a still earlier age; but those princes were surrounded by veteran gen- erals of distinguished skill, to whose suggestions must be attributed the victories of the Granicus, of Eocroi and of Narva. Clive, an inexperienced youth, had yet 5 more experience than any of those who served under him. He had to form himself, to form his officers, and to form his army. The only man, as far as we recol- lect, who at an equally early age ever gave equal proof of talents for war, was ISTapoleon Bonaparte. ' 10 From Clive's second visit to India dates the political ascendency of the English in that country. His dexter- ity and resolution realised, in the course of a few months, more than all the gorgeous visions which had floated before the imagination of Dupleix. Such an extent of 15 cultivated territory, such an amount of revenue, such a multitude of subjects, was never added to the domin- ion of Eome by the most successful pro-consul. Nor were such wealthy spoils ever borne under arches of tri- umph, down the Sacred Way, and through the crowded 20 Forum, to the threshold of Tarpeian Jove. The fame of those who subdued Antiochus and Tigranes grows dim when compared with the splendour of the exploits which the young English adventurer achieved at the head of an army not equal in numbers to one half of a 25 Eoman legion. From Clive's third visit to India dates the purity of the administration of our Eastern empire. When he landed in Calcutta in 1765, Bengal was regarded as a place to which Englishmen were sent only to get rich, 30 by any means, in the shortest possible time. He first made dauntless and unsparing war on that gigantic sys- tem of oppression, extortion, and corruption. In that war he manfully put to hazard his ease, his fame, and his splendid fortune. The same sense of justice which 35 LOED CLIYE 139 forbids ns to conceal or extenuate the faults of his earlier days compels us to admit that those faults were nobly repaired. If the reproach of the Company and of its servants has been taken away, if in India the 5 yoke of foreign masters, elsewhere the heaviest of all yokes, has been found lighter than that of any native dynasty, if to that gang of public robbers, which for- merly spread terror through the whole plain of Bengal, has succeeded a body of functionaries not more highly 10 distinguished by ability and diligence than by integrity, disinterestedness, and public spirit, if we now see such men as Munro, Elphinstone, and Metcalfe, after leading victorious armies, after making and deposing kings, re- turn, proud of their honourable poverty, from a land 15 which once held out to every greedy factor the hope of boundless wealth, the praise is in no small measure due to Clive. His name stands high on the roll of con- querors. But it is found in a better list, in the list of those who have done and suffered much for the hap- 20 piness of mankind. To the warrior, history will assign a place in the same rank with Lucullus and Trajan. Nor will she deny to the reformer a share of that ven- eration with which France cherishes the memory of Turgot, and with which the latest generations of Hin- 25 doos will contemplate the statue of Lord William Bentinck. WAEEEN HASTINGS (October 1841) Memoirs of the Life of Warren Hastings, first Governor-General of Bengal. Compiled from Original Papers, by the Eev. G. E. Gleig, M.A. 3 vols. 8vo. London: 1841. We are inclined to think that we shall best meet the wishes of our readers, if, instead of minutely examin- ing this book, we attempt to give, in a way necessarily 5 hasty and imperfect, our own view of the life and char- acter of Mr. Hastings. Our feeling towards him is not exactly that of the House of Commons which impeached him in 1787; neither is it that of the House of Com- mons which uncovered and stood up to receive him in 10 1813. He had great qualities, and he rendered great services to the State. But to represent him as a man of stainless virtue is to make him ridiculous; and from regard for his memory, if from no other feeling, his friends would have done well to lend no countenance 15 to such adulation. We believe that, if he were now liv- ing, he would have sufficient judgment and sufficient greatness of mind to wish to be shown as he was. He must have known that there were dark spots on his fame. He might also have felt with pride that the 20 splendour of his fame would bear many spots. He would have wished posterity to have a likeness of him, though " an unfavourable likeness, rather than a daub at once insipid and unnatural, resembling neither him nor any- body else. "Paint me as I am,'' said Oliver Cromwell, 25 140 WAEKEN HASTINGS 141 while sitting to young Lely. "If you leave out the scars and wrinkles, I will not pay you a shilling.'^ Even in such a trifle, the great Protector showed both his good sense and his magnanimity. He did not wish all that 5 was characteristic in his countenance to be lost, in the vain attempt to give him the regular features and smooth blooming cheeks of the curl-pated minions of James the First. He was content that his face should go forth marked with all the blemishes which had been 10 put on it by time, by war, by sleepless nights, by anxi- ety, perhaps by remorse ; but with valour, policy, author- it}^, and public care written in all its princely lines. If men truly great knew their own interest, it is thus that they would wish their minds to be portrayed. 15 Warren Hastings sprang from an ancient and illus- trious race. It has been affirmed that his pedigree can be traced back to the great Danish sea-king, whose sails were long the terror of both coasts of the British Chan- nel, and who, after many fierce and doubtful struggles, 20 yielded at last to the valour and genius of Alfred. But the undoubted splendour of the line of Hastings needs no illustration from fable. One branch of that line wore, in the fourteenth century, the coronet of Pem- broke. From another branch sprang the renowned 25 Chamberlain, the faithful adherent of the White Eose, whose fate has furnished so striking a theme both to poets and to historians. His family received from the Tudors the earldom of Huntingdon, which, after long dispossession, was regained in our time by a series of 80 events scarcely paralleled in romance. The lords of the manor of Daylesford, in Worcester- shire, claimed to be considered as the heads of this dis- tinguished family. The main stock, indeed, prospered less than some of the younger shoots. But the Dayles- 35 ford family, though not ennobled, was wealthy and 142 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS highly considered;, till, about two hundred years ago, it was overwhelmed by the great ruin of the civil war. The Hastings of that time was a zealous cavalier. He raised money on his lands, sent his plate to the mint at Oxford, joined the royal army, and, after spending 5 half his property in the cause of King Charles, was glad to ransom himself by making over most of the remaining half to Speaker Lenthal. The old seat at Daylesford still remained in the family; but it could no longer be kept up ; and in the following generation 10 it was sold to a merchant of London. Before this transfer took place, the last Hastings of Daylesford had presented his second son to the rectory of the parish in which the ancient residence of the fam- ily stood. The living was of little value ; and the situ- 15 ation of the poor clergyman, after the sale of the estate, was deplorable. He was constantly engaged in law- suits about his tithes with the new lord of the manor, and was at length utterly ruined. His eldest 3on, Howard, a well-conducted young man, obtained a place 20 in the customs. The second son, Pynaston, an idle worthless boy, married before he was sixteen, lost his wife in two years, and died in the West Indies, leaving to the care of his unfortuna+e father a little orphan, destined to strange and memorable vicissitudes of for- 25 tune. Warren, the son of Pynaston, was born on the sixth of December, 1732. His mother died a few days later, and he was left dependent on his distressed grandfather. The child was early sent to the village school, where he 30 learned his letters on the same bench with the sons of the peasantry; nor did anything in his garb or face indicate that his life was to take a widely different course from that of the young rustics with whom he studied and played. But no cloud could overcast the 35 WAEEEN HASTINGS 143 dawn of so much genius and so much ambition. The very ploughmen observed, and long remembered, how kindly little Warren took to his book. The daily sight of the lands which his ancestors had possessed, and 5 Avhich had passed into the hands of strangers, filled his young brain with wild fancies of projects. He loved to hear stories of the wealth and greatness of his progen- itors, of their splendid housekeeping, their loyalty, and their valour. On one bright summer day, the boy, then 10 just seven years old, lay on the bank of the rivulet which flows through the old domain of his house to join the Isis. There, as three score years and ten later he told the tale, rose in his mind a scheme which, through all the turns of his eventful career, was never abandoned, 15 He would recover the estate which had belonged to his fathers. He would be Hastings of Daylesford. This purpose, formed in infancy and poverty, grew stronger as his intellect expanded and as his fortune rose. He pursued his plan with that calm but indomitable force of 20 will which was the most striking peculiarity of his char- acter. When, under a tropical sun, he ruled fifty mil- lions of Asiatics, his hopes, amidst all the cares of war, finance, and legislation, still pointed to Daylesford. And when his long public life, so singularly chequered with 25 good and evil, with glory and obloquy, had at length closed for ever, it was to Daylesford that he retired to die. When he was eight years old, his uncle Howard determined to take charge of him, and to give him a 30 liberal education. The boy went up to London, and was sent to school at Newington, where he was well taught but ill fed. He always attributed the smallness of his stature to the hard and scanty fare of this semi- nary. At ten he was removed to Westminster school, 35 then flourishing under the care of Dr. Nichols. Vinny 144 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS Bourne, as his pupils affectionately called him, was one of the masters. Churchill, Colman, Lloyd, Cumberland, Cowper, were among the students. With Cowper, Has- tings formed a friendship which neither the lapse of time, nor a wide dissimilarity of opinions and pursuits, could 5 wholly dissolve. It does not appear that they ever met after they had grown to manhood. But forty years later, when the voices of many great orators were crying for vengeance on the oppressor of India, the shy and secluded poet could imagine to himself Hastings the lo Governor-General only as the Hastings with whom he had rowed on the Thames and played in the cloister, and refused to believe that so good-tempered a fellow could have done anything very wrong. His own life had been spent in praying, musing, and rhyming among 15 the water-lilies of the Ouse. He had preserved in no common measure the innocence of childhood. His spirit had indeed been severely tried, but not by tempta- tions which impelled him to any gross violation of the rules of social morality. He had never been attacked by 20 combinations of powerful and deadly enemies. He had never been compelled to make a choice between innocence and greatness, between crime and ruin. Firmly as he held in theory the doctrine of human depravity, his habits were such that he was unable to conceive how far 25 from the path of right even kind and noble natures may be hurried by the rage of conflict and the lust of dominion. Hastings had another associate at Westminster of whom we shall have occasion to make frequent mention, so Elijah Impey. We know little about their school days. But, we think, we may safely venture to guess that, whenever Hastings wished to play any trick more than usually naughty, he hired Impey with a tart or a ball to act as fag in the worst part of the prank. 35 WAEEEN HASTINGS 145 Warren was distinguished among his comrades as an excellent swimmer, boatman, and scholar. At fourteen he was first in the examination for the foundation. His name in gilded letters on the walls of the dormitory still 5 attests his victory over many older competitors. He stayed two years longer at the school, and was looking forward to a studentship at Christ Church, when an event happened which changed the whole course of his life. Howard Hastings died, bequeathing his nephew 10 to the care of a friend and distant relation, named Chiswick. This gentleman, though he did not abso- lutely refuse the charge, was desirous to rid himself of it as soon as possible. Dr. Nichols made strong remon- strance against the cruelty of interrupting the studies 15 of a youth who seemed likely to be one of the first scholars of the age. He even offered to bear the expense of sending his favourite pupil to Oxford. But Mr. Chiswick was inflexible. He thought the years which had already been wasted on hexameters and pentameters 20 quite sufficient. He had it in his power to obtain for the lad a writership in the service of the East India Company. Whether the young adventurer, when once shipped off, made a fortune, or died of a liver complaint, he equally ceased to be a burden to anybody. Warren 25 was accordingly removed from Westminster school, and placed for a few months at a commercial academy, to study arithmetic and book-keeping. In January, 1750, a few days after he had completed his seventeenth year, he sailed for Bengal, and arrived at his destination in 30 the October following. He was immediately placed at a desk in the Secre- tary's office at Calcutta, and laboured there during two years. Fort William was then purely a commercial set- tlement. In the south of India the encroaching policy 85 of Dupleix had transformed the servants of the English l^Q MAC AULA Y'S ESSAYS Company, against their will, into diplomatists and gen- erals. The war of the succession was raging in the Car- natic; and the tide had been suddenly turned against the French by the genius of young Eobert Clive. But in Bengal the European settlers, at peace with the 5 natives and with each other, were wholly occupied with ledgers and bills of lading. After two years passed in keeping accounts at Cal- cutta, Hastings was sent up the country to Cossimbazar, a town which lies on the Hoogley, about a mile from lo Moorshedabad, and which then bore to Moorshedabad a relation, if we may compare small things with great, such as the city of London bears to Westminster. Moorshedabad was the abode of the prince who, by an authority ostensibly derived from the Mogul, but really 15 independent, ruled the three great provinces of Bengal, Orissa, and Bahar. At Moorshedabad were the court, the harem, and the public offices. Cossimbazar was a port and a place of trade, renowned for the quantity and excellence of the silks which were sold in its marts, and 20 constantly receiving and sending forth fleets of richly laden barges. At this important point, the Company had established a small factory subordinate to that of Fort William. Here, during several years, Hastings was employed in making bargains for stuffs with native 25 brokers. While he was thus engaged, Sura j ah Dowlah succeeded to the government, and declared war against the English. The defenceless settlement of Cossim- bazar, lying close to the tyrant's capital, was instantly seized. Hastings was sent a prisoner to Moorshedabad, 30 but, in consequence of the humane intervention of the servants of the Dutch Company, was treated with indul- gence. Meanwhile the Nabob marched on Calcutta ; the governor and the commandant fled; the town and cita- WAKEEX HASTINGS 1^7 del were taken, and most of the English prisoners per- ished in the Black Hole. In these events originated the greatness of Warren Hastings. The fugitive governor and his companions 5 had taken refuge on the dreary islet of Fulda, near the mouth of the Hoogiey. They were naturally desirous to obtain full information respecting the proceedings of the Xabob; and no person seemed so likely to furnish it as Hastings, who was a prisoner at large in the immediate 10 neighbourhood of the court. He thus became a diplo- matic agent, and soon established a high character for ability and resolution. The treason which at a later period was fatal to Sura j ah Dowlah was already in prog- ress ; and Hastings was admitted to the deliberations of 15 the conspirators. But the time for striking had not arrived. It was necessary to postpone the execution of the design ; and Hastings, who was now in extreme peril, fled to Fulda. Soon after his arrival at Fulda, the expedition from 20 Madras, commanded by Clive, appeared in the Hoogiey. Warren, young, intrepid, and excited probably by the example of the Commander of the Forces, who, having like himself been a mercantile agent of the Company, had been turned by public calamities into a soldier, 25 determined to serve in the ranks. During the early operations of the war he carried a musket. But the quick eye of Clive soon perceived that the head of the young volunteer would be more useful than his arm. When, after the battle of Plassey, Meer Jaffier was pro- 30 claimed Nabob of Bengal, Hastings was appointed to reside at the court of the new prince as agent for the Company. He remained at Moorshedabad till the jeaT 1761, when he became a Member of Council, and was conse- 35 quently forced to reside at Calcutta. This was during 148 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS the interval between Clive's first and second administra- tion, an interval which has left on the fame of the East India Company a stain not wholly effaced by many years of just and humane government. Mr. Yansittart, the Governor, was at the head of a new and anomalous em- 5 pire. On one side was a band of English functionaries, daring, intelligent, eager to be rich. On the other side was a great native population, helpless, timid, accus- tomed to crouch under oppression. To keep the stronger race from preying oil the weaker, was an undertaking lo which tasked to the utmost the talents and energy of Olive. A/'ansittart, with fair intentions, was a feeble and inefficient ruler. The master caste, as was natural, broke loose from all restraint; and then was seen what we believe to be the most frightful of all spectacles, the 15 strength of civilisation without its m.ercy. To all other despotism there is a check, imperfect indeed, and liable to gross abuse, but still sufficient to preserve society from the last extreme of misery. A time comes when the evils of submission are obviously greater than 20 those of resistance, when fear itself begets a sort of courage, when a convulsive burst of popular rage and despair warns tyrants not to presume too far on the patience of mankind. But against misgovernment such as then afflicted Bengal it was impossible to struggle. 25 The superior intelligence and energy of the dominant class made their power irresistible. A war of Ben- galees against Englishmen was like a war of sheep against wolves, of men against demons. The only pro- tection which the conquered could find was in the mod- 30 eration, the clemency, the enlarged policy of the con- querors. That protection, at a later period, they found. But at first English power came among them unaccom- panied by English morality. There was an interval between the time at which they became our subjects, and 35 WAKEEX HASTINGS 149 the time at which we began to reflect that we were bound to discharge towards them the duties of rulers. During that interval the business of a servant of the Company was simply to wring out of the natives a 5 hundred or two hundred thousand pounds as speedily as possible, that he might return home before his constitu- tion had suffered from the heat, to marry a peer's daughter, to buy rotten boroughs in Cornwall, and to give balls in St. James's Square. Of the conduct of 10 Hastings at this time little is known; but the little that is known, and the circumstance that little is known, must be considered as honourable to him. He could not protect the natives : all that he could do was to abstain from plundering and oppressing them; and this he 15 appears to have done. It is certain that at this time he continued poor; and it is equally certain that by cruelty and dishonesty he might easily have become rich. It is certain that he was never charged with having borne a share in the worst abuses which then prevailed ; 20 and it is almost equally certain that, if he had borne a share in those abuses, the able and bitter enemies who afterwards persecuted him would not have failed to discover and to puoclaim his guilt. The keen, severe, and even malevolent scrutiny to which his whole public 25 life was subjected, a scrutin}^ unparalleled, as we believe, in the history of mankind, is in one respect advanta- geous to his reputation. It brought many lamentable blemishes to light; but it entitles him to be considered pure from every blemish which has not been brought to 30 light. The truth is that the temptations to which so many English functionaries yielded in the time of Mr. Yan- sittart were not temptations addressed to the ruling passions of Warren Hastings. He was not squeamish in 35 pecuniary transactions ; but he was neither sordid nor 150 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS rapacious. He was far too enlightened a man to look on a great empire merely as a buccaneer would look on a gal- leon. Had his heart been much worse than it was, his j understanding would have preserved him from that ex- f tremity of baseness. He was an unscrupulous, perhaps 5 an unprincipled statesman ; but still he was a statesman, and not a freebooter. In 1764 Hastings returned to England. He had real- ised only a very moderate fortune; and that moderate fortune was soon reduced to nothing, partly by his lo praiseworthy liberality, and partly by his mismanage- ment. Towards his relations he appears to have acted very generously. The greater part of his savings he left in Bengal, hoping probably to obtain the high usury of India. But high usury and bad security generally go 15 together; and Hastings lost both interest and principal. He remained four j-ears in England. Of his life at this time very little is known. But it has been asserted, and is highly probable, that liberal studies and the society of men of letters occupied a great part of his time. It 20 is to be remembered to his honour that, in days when the languages of the East were regarded by other servants of the Company merely as the means of communicating with weavers and money-changers, his enlarged and ac- complished mind sought in Asiatic learning for new 25 forms of intellectual enjoyment, and for new views of government and society. Perhaps, like most persons who have paid much attention to departments of knowl- edge which lie out of the common track, he was inclined to overrate the value of his favourite studies. He con- 30 ceived that the cultivation of Persian literature might with advantage be made a part of the liberal education of an English gentleman; and he drew up a plan with that view. It is said that the University of Oxford, in which Oriental learning had never, since the revival of 35 WAEKEN HASTINGS 151 letters, been wholly neglected, was to be the seat of the institution which he contemplated. An endowment was expected from the munificence of the Company: and professors thoroughly competent to interpret Hafiz and 5 Ferdusi were to be engaged in the East. Hastings called on Johnson, with the hope, as it should seem, of interesting in this project a man who enjoyed the highest literary reputation, and who was particularly connected with Oxford. The interview appears to have 10 left on Johnson's mind a most favourable impression of the talents and attainments of his visitor. Long after, when Hastings was ruling the immense population of British India, the old philosopher wrote to him, and referred in the most courtly terms, though with great 15 dignity, to their short but agreeable intercourse. Hastings soon began to look again towards India. He had little to attach him to England ; and his pecuni- ary embarrassments were great. He solicited his old masters the Directors for employment. They acceded 20 to his request, with high compliments both to his abili- ties and to his integrity, and appointed him a Member of Council at Madras. It would be unjust not to men- tion that, though forced to borrow money for his outfit, he did not withdraw any portion of the sum which he 25 had appropriated to the relief of his distressed relations. In the spring of 1769 he embarked on board of the Duke of Grafton, and commenced a voyage distinguished by incidents which might furnish matter for a novel. Among the passengers in the Dul-e of Grafton was a 30 German of the name of Imhoff. He called himself a Baron; but he was in distressed circumstances, and was going out to Madras as a portrait-painter, in the hope of picking up some of the pagodas which were then lightly got and as lightly spent by the English in India. 35 The Baron was accompanied by his wife, a native, we 152 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS have somewhere read^ of Archangel. This young woman, who, born under the Arctic circle, was destined to play the part of a Queen under the tropic of Cancer, had an agreeable person, a cultivated mind, and manners in the highest degree engaging. She despised her husband 5 heartily, and, as the story which we have to tell suffi- ciently proves, not without reason. She was interested by the conversation and flattered by the attentions of Hastings. The situation was indeed perilous. Ko place is so propitious to the formation either of close lo friendships or of deadly enmities as an Indiaman. There are very few people who do not find a voyage which lasts several months insupportably dull. Anything is welcome which may break that long monotony, a sail, a shark, an albatross, a man overboard. Most passengers 15 find some resource in eating twice as many meals as on land. But the great devices for killing the time are quar- relling and flirting. The facilities for both these excit- ing pursuits are great. The inmates of the ship are thrown together far more than in any country-seat or 20 boarding-house. None can escape from the rest except by imprisoning himself in a cell in which he can hardly turn. All food, all exercise, is taken in company. Ceremony is to a great extent banished. It is every day in the power of a mischievous person to inflict innumer- 25 able annoyances. It is every day in the power of an amiable person to confer little services. It not seldom happens that serious distress and danger call forth, in genuine beauty and deformity, heroic virtues and abject vices which, in the ordinary intercourse of good society, 30 might remain during many years unknown even to inti- mate associates. Under such circumstances met Warren Hastings and the Baroness Imhoff, two persons whose accomplishments would have attracted notice in any court of Europe. The gentleman had no domestic ties. 35 WAEEEN HASTINGS 153 The lady was tied to a husband for whom she had no regard, and who had no regard for his own honour. An attachment sprang up, which was soon strengthened by events such as could hardly have occurred on land. 5 Hastings fell ill. The Baroness nursed him with womanly tenderness, gave him his medicines with her own hand, and even sat up in his cabin while he slept. Long before the Duke of Grafton reached Madras, Has- tings was in love. But his love was of a most charac- 10 teristic description. Like his hatred, like his ambition, like all his passions, it was strong, but not impetuous. It was calm, deep, earnest, patient of delay, unconquer- able by time. Imhoff was called into council by his wife and his wife's lover. It was arranged that the Baroness 15 should institute a suit for a divorce in the courts of Franconia, that the Baron should afford every facility to the proceeding, and that, during the years which might elapse before the sentence should be pronounced, they should continue to live together. It was also 20 agreed that Hastings should bestow some very substan- tial marks of gratitude on the complaisant husband, and should, when the marriage was dissolved, make the lady his wife, and adopt the children whom she had already borne to Imhoff. 25 At Madras, Hastings found the trade of the Company in a very disorganized state. His own tastes would have led him rather to political than to commercial pursuits : but he knew that the favour of his employers depended chiefly on their dividends, and that their dividends de- 30 pended chiefly on the investment. He, therefore, with great judgment, determined to apply his vigorous mind for a time to this department of business, which had been much neglected, since the servants of the Company had ceased to be clerks, and had become, warriors and 35 negotiators. 154 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS In a \evj few months lie effected an important reform. The Directors notified to him their high approbation, and were so much pleased with his conduct that they determined to place him at the head of the government at Bengal. Early in 1772 he quitted Fort St. George 5 for his new post. The Imhoffs, who were still man and wife, accompanied him, and lived at Calcutta on the same plan which they had already followed during more than two years. When Hastings took his seat at the head of the lo council-board, Bengal was still governed according to the system which Clive had devised, a system which was, perhaps, skilfully contrived for the purpose of facilitat- ing and concealing a great revolution, but which, when that revolution was complete and irrevocable, could pro- 15 duce nothing but inconvenience. There were two gov- ernments, the real and the ostensible. The supreme power belonged to the Company, and was in truth the most despotic power that can be conceived. The only restraint on the English masters of the country was that 20 which their own justice and humanity imposed on them. There was no constitutional check on their will, and re- sistance to them was utterly hopeless. But though thus absolute in reality the English had not yet assumed the style of sovereignty. They held 25 their territories as vassals of the throne of Delhi; they raised their revenues as collectors appointed by the im- perial commission; their public seal was inscribed with the imperial titles ; and their mint struck only the impe- rial coin. 30 There was still a Nabob of Bengal, who stood to the English rulers of his country in the same relation in which Augustulus stood to Odoacer, or the last Merovin- gians to Charles Martel and Pepin. He lived at Moor- shedabad, surrounded by princely magnificence. He 35 WAKKEN HASTINGS 155 - was approached with outward marks of reverence, and his name was used in public instruments. But in the government of the country he had less real share than the youngest writer or cadet in the Company's service. 5 The English council which represented the Company at Calcutta was constituted on a very different plan from that which has since been adopted. At present the Governor is, as to all executive measures, absolute. He can declare war, conclude peace, appoint public func- 10 tionaries or remove them, in opposition to the unani- mous sense of those who sit with him in council. They are, indeed, entitled to know all that is done, to discuss all that is done, to advise, to remonstrate, to send pro- tests to England. But it is with the Governor that the 15 supreme power resides, 'and on him that the whole re- sponsibility rests. This system, which was introduced by Mr. Pitt and Mr. Dundas in spite of the strenuous opposition of Mr. Burke, we conceive to be on the whole the best that was ever devised for the government of a 20 country where no materials can be found for a represen- tative constitution. In the time of Hastings the Gov- ernor had only one vote in council, and, in case of an equal division, a casting vote. It therefore happened not unfrequently that he was overruled on the gravest 25 questions ; and it was possible that he might be wholly excluded, for years together, from the real direction of public affairs. The English functionaries at Fort William had as yet paid little or no attention to the internal government 30 of Bengal. The only branch of politics about which they much busied themselves was negotiation with the native princes. The police, the administration of jus- tice, the details of the collection of revenue, were almost entirely neglected. "We may remark that the phrase- 35 ology of the Company's servants still bears the traces 156 MAC AUL AY'S ESSAYS of this state of things. To this day they always use the word "political," as s3^non3'moiTS with "diplomatic." We could name a gentleman still living, who was de- scribed by the highest authority as an invaluable public servant, eminently fit to be at the head of the internal 5 administration of a whole presidency, but unfortunately quite ignorant of all political business. The internal government of Bengal the English rulers delegated to a great native minister, who was stationed at Moorshedabad. All military affairs, and, with the 10 exception of what pertains to mere ceremonial, all for- eign affairs, were withdrawn from his control; but the other departments of the administration were entirely confided to him. His own stipend amounted to near a hundred thousand pounds sterling a year. The personal 15 allowance of the nabob, amounting to more than three hundred thousand pounds a year, passed through the minister's hands, and was, to a great extent, at his dis- posal. The collection of the revenue, the administration of justice, the maintenance of order, w^ere left to this 20 high functionary; and for the exercise of his immense power he was responsible to none but the British masters of the country. A situation so important, lucrative, and splendid, was naturally an object of ambition to the ablest and most 25 powerful natives. Clive had found it difficult to decide between conflicting pretensions. Two candidates stood out prominently from the crowd, each of them the rep- resentative of a race and of a religion. One of these was Mahommed Reza Khan, a Mussul-30 man of Persian extraction, able, active, religious after the fashion of his people, and highly esteemed by them. In England he might perhaps have been regarded as a corrupt and greedy politician. But, tried by the lower WAEKEX HASTINGS 157 standard of Indian morality, he might be considered as a man of integrity and honour. His competitor was a Hindoo Brahmin whose name has, by a terrible and melancholy event, been inseparably 5 associated with that of Warren Hastings, the Maharajah Nuncomar. This man had played an important part in all the revolutions which, since the time of Sura j ah Dowlah, had taken place in Bengal. To the considera- tion which in that country belongs to high and pure 10 caste, he added the weight which is derived from wealth, talents, and experience. Of his moral character it is difficult to give a notion to those who are acquainted with human nature only as it appears in our island. What the Italian is to the Englishman, what the Hindoo 15 is to the Italian, what the Bengalee is to other Hindoos, that was Xuncomar to other Bengalees. The physical organization of the Bengalee is feeble even to effemi- nacy. He lives in a constant vapour bath. His pur- suits are sedentary, his limbs delicate, his movements 20 languid. During many ages he has been trampled upon by men of bolder and more hardy breeds. Courage, in- dependence, veracity, are qualities to which his consti- tution and his situation are equally unfavourable. His mind bears a singular analogy to his body. It is weak 25 even to helplessness for purposes of manly resistance ; but its suppleness and its tact move the children of sterner climates to admiration not unmingled with con- tempt. All those arts which are the natural defence of the weak are more fam^iliar to this subtle race than 30 to the Ionian of the time of Juvenal, or to the Jew of the dark ages. What the horns are to the buffalo, what the paw is to the tiger, what the sting is to the bee, what beauty, according to the old Greek song, is to woman, deceit is to the Bengalee. Large promises, 35 smooth excuses, elaborate tissues of circumstantial false- 158 MACAULAY^S ESSAYS hood, chicanery, perjiir}^, forgery, are the weapons, offen- sive and defensive, of the people of the Lower Ganges. All those millions do not furnish one sepoy to the armies of the Company. But as usurers, as money- changers, as sharp legal practitioners, no class of human 5 beings can bear a comparison with them. With all his softness, the Bengalee is by no means placable in his eninities or prone to pit}^ The pertinacity with which he adheres to his purposes 3delds only to the immediate pressure of fear. Xor does he lack a certain kind of lo courage which is often wanting to his masters. To in- evitable evils he is sometimes found to oppose a passive fortitude, such as the Stoics attributed to their ideal sage. An European warrior who rushes on a battery of cannon with a loud hurrah, will sometimes shriek 15 under the surgeon's knife, and fall into an agony of despair at the sentence of death. But the Bengalee, who would see his country overrun, his house laid in ashes, his children murdered or dishonoured, without having the spirit to strike one blow, has yet been known 20 to endure torture with the firmness of Mucins, and to mount the scaffold with the steady step and even pulse of Algernon Sydney. In Nuncomar, the national character was strongly and with exaggeration personified. The Company's servants 25 had repeatedly detected him in the most criminal in- trigues. On one occasion he brought a false charge against another Hindoo, and tried to substantiate it by producing forged documents. On another occasion it was discovered that, while professing the strongest at- so tachment to the English, he was engaged in several con- spiracies against them, and in particular that he was the medium of a correspondence between the court of Delhi and the French authorities in the Carnatic. For these and similar practices he had been long detained 35 WAEEEN HASTINGS 159' in confinement. But his talents and i-nfluence had not only procured his liberation, but had obtained for him a certain degree of consideration even among the British rulers of his country. 5 Clive was extremely unwilling to place a Mussulman at the head of the administration of Bengal. On the other hand, he could not bring himself to confer im- mense power on a man to whom every sort of villainy had repeatedly been brought home. Therefore, though 10 the nabob, over whom Nuncomar had by intrigue ac- quired great influence, begged that the artful Hindoo might be intrusted with the government, Clive, after some hesitation, decided honestly and wisely in favour of Mahommed Eeza Khan. When Hastings became 15 Governor, Mahommed Eeza Khan had held power seven years. An infant son of Meer Jaffier was now nabob; and the guardianship of the young prince's person had been confided to the minister. Nuncomar, stimulated at once by cupidity and malice, 20 had been constantly attempting to hurt the reputation of his successful rival. This was not difficult. The revenues of Bengal, under the administration estab- lished by Clive, did not yield such a surplus as had been anticipated by the Company ; for, at that time, the most 25 absurd notions were entertained in England respecting the wealth of India. Palaces of porphyr}^, hung with the richest brocade, heaps of pearls and diamonds, vaults from which pagodas and gold mohurs were measured out by the bushel, filled the imagination even of men 30 of business. Nobody seemed to be aware of what never- theless was most undoubtedly the truth, that India was a poorer country than countries which in Europe are reckoned poor, than Ireland, for example, or than Por- tugal. It was confidently believed by Lords of the 35 Treasury and members for the city that Bengal would 160 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS not only defray its own charges, but would afford an increased dividend to the proprietors of India stock, and large relief to the English finances. These absurd expectations were disappointed; and the Directors, nat- urally enough, chose to attribute the disappointment 5 rather to the mismanagement of Mahommed Eeza Khan than to their own ignorance of the country intrusted to their care. They were confirmed in their error by the agents of N'uncomar; for Nuncomar had agents even in Leadenhall Street. Soon after Hastings reached Cal- lo cutta, he received a letter addressed by the Court of Directors, not to the Council generally, but to himself in particular. He was directed to remove Mahommed Eeza Khan, to arrest him together with all his family and all his partisans, and to institute a strict inquiry 15 into the whole administration of the province. It was added that the Governor would do well to avail him- self of the assistance of Nuncomar in the investigation. The vices of Nuncomar were acknowledged. But even from his vices, it was said, much advantage might at 20 such a conjuncture be derived; and, though he could not safely be trusted, it might still be proper to encour- age him by hopes of reward. The Governor bore no goodwill to Nuncomar. Many years before, they had known each other at Moorsheda- 25 bad; and then a quarrel had arisen between them which all the authority of their superiors could hardly com- pose. Widely as they differed in most points, they re- sembled each other in this, that both were men of unfor- giving natures. To Mahommed Eeza Khan, on the 30 other hand, Hastings had no feelings of hostility. Nev- ertheless he proceeded to execute the instructions of the Company with an alacrity which he never showed, except when instructions were in perfect conformit}^ with his own views. He had, wisely as we think, determined to 35 WAEEEN HASTINGS 161 get rid of the system of double government in Bengal. The orders of the Directors furnished him with the means of effecting his purpose, and dispensed him from the necessity of discussing the matter with his Council. 5 He took his measures with his usual vigour and dexter- ity. At midnight, the palace of Mahommed Reza Khan at Moorshedabad was surrounded by a battalion of sepoys. The Minister was roused from his slumbers and informed that he was a prisoner. With the Mussul- 10 man gravity, he bent his head and submitted himself to the will of God. He fell not alone. A chief named Schitab Eoy had been intrusted with the government of Bahar. His valour and his attachment to the English had more than once been signally proved. On that 15 memorable day on which the people of Patna saw from their walls the whole army of the Mogul scattered by the little band of Captain Knox, the voice of the British conquerors assigned the palm of gallantry to the brave x^siatic. "I never,'' said Knox, when he introduced 20 Schitab Eoy, covered with blood and dust, to the Eng- lish functionaries assembled in the factory, "I never saw a native fight so before." Schitab Eoy was involved in the ruin of Mahommed Eeza Khan, was removed from office, and was placed under arrest. The members 25 of the Council received no intimation of these measures till the prisoners were on their road to Calcutta. The inquiry into the conduct of the minister was postponed on different pretences. He was detained in an easy confinement during many months. In the mean- so time, the great revolution which Hastings had planned was carried into effect. The office of minister was abol- ished. The internal administration was transferred to the servants of the Company. A system, a very imper- fect system, it is true, of civil and criminal justice, S5 under English superintendence, was established. The 162 MACAULAY'.S ESSAYS nabob was no longer to have even an ostensible share in the government; but he was still to receive a consider- able annual allowance, and to be surrounded with the state of sovereignty. As he was an infant, it was neces- sary to provide guardians for his person and property. 5 His person was intrusted to a lady of his father's harem, known by the name of the Munny Begum. The office of treasurer of the household was bestowed on a son of Nuncomar, named Goordas. Nuncomar's services were wanted; yet he could not safely be trusted w^ith power; 10 and Hastings thought it a masterstroke of policy to reward the able and unprincipled parent by promoting the inoffensive child. The revolution completed, the double government dis- solved, the Company installed in the' full sovereignty 15 of Bengal, Hastings had no motive to treat the late ministers with rigour. Their trial had been put off on various pleas till the new organization was complete. They were then brought before a committee, over which the Governor presided. Schitab Eoy was speedily ac- 20 quitted with honour. A formal apology was made to him for the restraint to which he had been subjected. All the Eastern marks of respect were bestowed on him. He was clothed in a robe of state, presented with jewels and with a richly harnessed elephant, and sent back to 25 his government at Patna. But his health had suffered from confinement; his high spirit had been cruelly wounded; and soon aft^r his liberation he died of a broken heart. The innocence of Mahommed Eeza Khan was not so so clearly established. But the Governor was not disposed to deal harshly. After a long hearing, in which Nun- comar appeared as the accuser, and displayed both the art and the inveterate rancour which distinguished him, Hastings pronounced that the charge had not been made 35 WAKEEX HASTINGS 163 oiit^ and ordered the fallen minister to be set at liberty. Xuncomar had purposed to destroy the Mussulman administration, and to rise on its ruin. Both his malevo- lence and his cupidity had been disappointed. Hastings 5 had made him a tool, had used him for the purpose of accomplishing the transfer of the government from Moorshedabad to Calcutta, from native to European hands. The rival, the enemy, so long envied, so im- placably persecuted, had been dismissed unhurt. The 10 situation so long and ardently desired had been abol- ished. It was natural that the Governor should be from that time an object of the most intense hatred to the vindictive Brahmin. As yet, however, it was necessary to suppress such feelings. The time was coming when 15 that long animosity was to end in a desperate and deadly struggle. In the meantime, Hastings was compelled to turn his attention to foreign affairs. The object of his diplomacy was at this time simply to get money. The finances of 20 his government were in an embarrassed state, and this embarrassment he was determined to relieve by some means, fair or foul. The principle which directed all his dealings with his neighbours is fully expressed by the old motto of one of the great predatory families of 25 Teviotdale, "Thou shalt want ere I want.^' He seems to have laid it down, as a fundamental proposition which could not be disputed, that, when he had not as many lacs of rupees as the public service required, he was to take them from anybody who had. One thing, indeed, 30 is to be said in excuse for him. The pressure applied to him by his employers at home, was such as only the highest virtue could have withstood, such as left him no choice except to commit great wrongs, or to resign his high post, and with that post all his hopes of for- 35 tune and distinction. The Directors, it is true, never 164 MACAITLAY'S ESSAYS enjoined or applauded any crime. Far from it. Who- ever examines their letters written at that time, will find there many just and humane sentiments, many excellent precepts, in short, an admirable code of political ethics. But every exhortation is modified or nullified by a de- 5 mand for money. "Govern leniently and send more money; practise strict justice and moderation towards neighbouring powers, and send more money"; this is, in truth, the sum of almost all the instructions that Hastings ever received from home. Now these instruc- lo tions, being interpreted, mean simply, "Be the father and the oppressor of the people; be just and unjust, moderate and rapacious." The Directors dealt with India, as the Church, in the good old times, dealt with a heretic. They delivered the victim over to the execu- 15 tioners, with an earnest request that all possible tender- ness might be shown. We by no means accuse or sus- pect those who framed these despatches of hypocrisy. It is probable that, writing fifteen thousand miles from the place where their orders were to be carried into 20 effect, they never perceived the gross inconsistency of which they were guilty. But the inconsistency was at once manifest to their vicegerent at Calcutta, who, with an empty treasury, with an unpaid army, with his own salary often in arrears, with deficient crops, with govern- 25 ment tenants daily running aw^ay, was called upon to remit home another half million without fail. Hastings saw that it was absolutely necessary for him to disre- gard either the moral discourses or the pecuniary requi- sitions of his employers. Being forced to disobey them 30 in something, he had to consider what kind of disobedi- ence they would most readily pardon; and he correctly judged that the safest course would be to neglect the sermons and to find the rupees. A mind so fertile as his, and so little restrained by 35 WAEKEN HASTINGS 165 conscientious scruples, speedily discovered several modes of relieving the financial embarrassments of the Gov- ernment. The allowance of the Nabob of Bengal was reduced at a stroke from three hundred and twenty 5 thousand pounds a year to half that sum. The Com- pany had bound itself to pay near three hundred thou- sand pounds a year to the Great Mogul, as a mark of homage for the provinces which he had intrusted to their care; and they had ceded to him the districts of Corah 10 and Allahabad. On the plea that the Mogul was not really independent, but merely a tool in the hands of others, Hastings determined to retract these conces- sions. He accordingly declared that the English would pay no more tribute, and sent troops to occupy Allaha- 15 bad and Corah. The situation of these places was such, that there would be little advantage and great expense in retaining them. Hastings, who wanted money, and not territory, determined to sell them. A purchaser was not wanting. The rich province of Oude had, in 20 the general dissolution of the Mogul Empire, fallen to the share of the great Mussulman house by which it is still governed. About twenty years ago, this house, by the permission of the British Government, assumed the royal title; but in the time of Warren Hastings such 25 an assumption would have been considered by the Ma- hommedans of India as a monstrous impiety. The Prince of Oude, though he held the power, did not venture to use the style of sovereignty. To the appella- tion of Nabob or Viceroy, he added that of Vizier of 30 the monarchy of Hindostan, just as in the last century the Electors of Saxony and Brandenburg, though inde- pendent of the Emperor, and often in arms against him, were proud to style themselves his Grand Chamberlain and Grand Marshal. Sujah Dowlah, then Nabob Vizier, 35 was on excellent terms with the English. He had a 166 MACAFLAY'S ESSAYS large treasure. Allahabad and Corah were so situated that they might be of use to him and could be of none to the Company. The buyer and seller soon came to an understanding; and the provinces which had been torn from the Mogul were made over to the Government of 5 Oude for about half a million sterling. But there was another matter still more important to he settled by the Vizier and the Governor. The fate of a brave people was to be decided. It was decided in a manner which has left a lasting stain on the fame of 10 Hastings and of England. The people of Central Asia had always been to the inhabitants of India what the warriors of the German forests were to the subjects of the decaying monarchy of Eome. The dark, slender, and timid Hindoo shrank 15 from a conflict with the strong muscle and resolute spirit of the fair race which dwelt beyond the passes. There is reason to believe that, at a period anterior to the dawn of regular history, the people who spoke the rich and flexible Sanskrit came from regions lying far 20 beyond the Hyphasis and the Hystaspes, and imposed their yoke on the children of the soil. It is certain that, during the last ten centuries, a succession of invaders descended from the west on Hindostan; nor was the course of conquest ever turned back towards the setting 25 sun, till that memorable campaign in which the cross of Saint George was planted on the walls of Ghizni. The Emperors of Hindostan themselves came from the other side of the great mountain ridge; and it had always been their practice to recruit their army from 30 the hardy and valiant race from which their own illus- trious house sprang. Among the military adventurers who were allured to the Mogul standards from the neigh- borhood of Cabul and Candahar, were conspicuous sev- eral gallant bands, known by the name of the Eohillas. 35 WAEEEN HASTINGS 167 Their services had been rewarded with large tracts of land, fiefs of the spear, if we may use an expression drawn from an analogous state of things, in that fertile plain through which the Kamgunga flows from the. 5 snowy heights of Kumaon to join the Ganges. In tlie general confusion which followed the death of Aurung- zebe, the warlike colony became virtually independent. The Eohillas were distinguished from the other inhab- itants of India by a peculiarly fair complexion. They 10 were more honourably distinguished by courage in war, and by skill in the arts of peace. While anarchy raged from Lahore to Cape Comorin, their little territory en- joyed the blessings of repose under the guardianship of valour. Agriculture and commerce flourished among 15 them ; nor were they negligent of rhetoric and poetry. Many persons now living have heard aged men talk with regret of the golden days when the Afghan princes ruled in the vale of Eohilcund. Sujah Dowlah had set his heart on adding this rich 20 district to his own principality. Eight, or show of right, he had absolutely none. His claim was in no respect better founded than that of Catherine of Poland, or that of the Bonaparte family to Spain. The Eohillas held their country by exactly the same title by which he 25 held his, and had governed their country far better than his had ever been governed. Nor were they a people whom it was perfectly safe to attack. Their land was indeed an open plain destitute of natural defences; but their veins were full of the high blood of Afghanistan. 30 As soldiers, they had not the steadiness which is seldom found except in company with strict discipline; but their impetuous valour had been proved on many fields of battle. It was said that their chiefs, when united by common peril, could bring eighty thousand men into the 35 field. Sujah Dowlah' had himself seen them fight, and Igg MACAULAY^S ESSAYS wisely shrank from a conflict with them. There was in India one army, and only one, against which even those proud Caucasian tribes could not stand. It had been abundantly proved that neither tenfold odds, nor the martial ardour of the boldest Asiatic nations, could 5 avail ought against English science and resolution. Was it possible to induce the Governor of Bengal to let out to hire the irresistible energies of the imperial people, the skill against which the ablest chiefs of Hin- dostan were helpless as infants, the discipline which had 10 so often triumphed over the frantic struggles of fanati- cism and despair, the unconquerable British courage which is never so sedate and stubborn as toward the close of a doubtful and murderous day ? This was what the Nabob Vizier asked, and what 15 Hastings granted. A bargain was soon struck. Each of the negotiators had what the other wanted. Has- tings was in need of funds to carry on the government of Bengal, and to send remittances to London; and Sujah Dowlah had an ample revenue. Sujah Dowlah 20 was bent on subjugating the Eohillas ; and Hastings had at his disposal the only force by which the Eohillas could be subjugated. It was agreed that an English army should be lent to the Nabob Vizier, and that, for the loan, he should pay four hundred thousand pounds 25 sterling, besides defraying all the charge of the troops while employed in his service. "I really cannot see," says Mr. Gleig, "upon what grounds, either of political or moral justice, this proposi- tion deserves to be stigmatised as infamous." If we 30 understand the meaning of the words, it is infamous to commit a wicked action for hire, and it is wicked to en- gage in war without provocation. In this particular war, scarcely one aggravating circumstance was wanting. The object of the Eohilla war was this, to deprive a 35 WAKEEN HASTINGS Igcj large population, who had never done us the least harm,, of a good government, and to place them, against their will, under an execrably bad one. Nay, even this is not all. England now descended far below the level even of 5 those petty German princes who, about the same time,, sold us troops to fight the Americans. The hussar- mongers of Hesse and Anspach had at least the assur- ance that the expeditions on which their soldiers were to be employed would be conducted in conformity with 10 the humane rules of civilised warfare. Was the Eohilla war likely to be so conducted ? Did the Governor stipu- late that it should be so conducted? He well knew what Indian warfare was. He well knew that the power which he covenanted to put into Sujah Dowlah's hands- 15 would, in all probability, be atrociously abused ; and he required no guarantee, no promise, that it should not be so abused. He did not even reserve to himself the right of withdrawing his aid in case of abuse, however gross.. We are almost ashamed to notice Major Scott's plea,. 20 that Hastings was justified in letting out English troops to slaughter the Eohillas, because the Rohillas were not of Indian race, but a colony from a distant country. What were the English themselves? Was it for them to proclaim a crusade for the expulsion of all intruders 25 from the countries watered by the Ganges ? Did it lie in their mouths to contend that a foreign settler who establishes an empire in India is a caput lupinum? ^¥hat would they have said if any other power had,, on such a ground, attacked Madras or Calcutta, without 30 the slightest provocation ? Such a defense was wanting to make the infamy of the transaction complete. The atrocity of the crime, and the hypocrisy of the apology,, are worthy of each other. One of the three brigades of which the Bengal army 35 consisted w^as sent under Colonel Champion to join 270 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS SiTJah Dowlah's forces. The Eohillas expostulated, en- treated, offered a large ransom, but in vain. They then resolved to defend themselves to the last. A bloody battle was fought. "The enemy," says Colonel Cham- pion, "gave proof of a good share of military knowledge ; 5 and it is impossible to describe a more obstinate firm- ness of resolution than they displayed." The dastardly sovereign of Oude fled from the field. The English were left unsupported; but their fire and their charge were irresistible. It was not, however, till the most dis- lo tinguished chiefs had fallen, fighting bravely at the head of their troops, that the Eohilla ranks gave way. Then the Nabob Vizier and his rabble made their ap- pearance, and hastened to plunder the camp of the valiant enemies, whom they had never dared to look in 15 the face. The soldiers of the Company, trained in an exact discipline, kept unbroken order, while the tents were pillaged by these worthless allies. But many voices were heard to exclaim, "We have had all the fight- ing, and those rogues are to have all the profit." 20 Then the horrors of Indian war were let loose on the fair valleys and cities of Eohilcund. The whole coun- try was in a blaze. More than a hundred thousand peo- ple fied from their homes to pestilential jungles, prefer- ring famine, and fever, and the haunts of tigers, to the 25 tyranny of him, to whom an English and a Christian government had, for shameful lucre, sold their sub- stance, and their blood, and the honour of their wives and daughters. Colonel Champion remonstrated with the Nabob Vizier, and sent strong representations to 30 Fort William ; but the Governor had made no conditions as to tke mode in which the war was to be carried on. He had troubled himself about nothing but his forty lacs ; and, though he might disapprove of Sujah Dow- lah's wanton barbarity, he did not think himself entitled 35 WAKEEX HASTINGS 171 to interfere, except by offering advice. This delicacy excites the admiration of the biographer. "Mr. Has- tings/' he says, "could not himself dictate to the Nabob, nor permit the commander of the Company's troops to 5 dictate how the war was to be carried on." No, to be sure. Mr. Hastings had only to put down by main force the brave struggles of innocent men fighting for their liberty. Their military resistance crushed, his duties ended; and he had then only to fold his arms and look 10 on, while their villages were burned, their children butchered, and their women violated. Will Mr. Gleig seriously maintain this opinion? Is any role more plain than this, that whoever voluntarily gives to an- other irresistible power over human beings is bound to 15 take order that such power shall not be barbarously abused ? But we beg pardon of our readers for arguing a point so clear. We hasten to the end of this sad and disgraceful story. The war ceased. The finest population in India was sub- 20 jected to a greedy, cowardly, cruel tyrant. Commerce and agriculture languished. The rich province which had tempted the cupidity of Sujah Dowlah became the most miserable part even of his miserable dominions. Yet is the injured nation not extinct. At long intervals gleams 25 of its ancient spirit have flashed forth ; and even at this day, valour, and self-respect, and a chivalrous feeling rare among Asiatics, and a bitter remembrance of the great crime of England, distinguish that noble Afghan race. To this day they are regarded as the best of all 30 sepoys at the cold steel ; and it was very recently re- marked, by one who had enjoyed great opportunities of observation, that the only natives of India to whom the word "gentleman" can with perfect propriety be applied, are to be found among the Eohillas. 35 Whatever we may think of the morality of Hastings, 172 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS it cannot be denied that the financial results of his policy did honour to his talents. In less than two years after he assumed the government, he had without im- posing any additional burdens on the people subject to his authority, added about four hundred, and fifty thou- 5 sand pounds to the annual income- of the Company, besides procuring about a million in ready money. He had also relieved the finances of Bengal from military expenditure, amounting to near a quarter of a million a year, and had thrown that charge on the Nabob of 10 Oude. There can be no doubt that this was a result which, if it had been obtained by honest means, would have entitled him to the warmest gratitude of his coun- try, and which, by whatever means obtained, proved that he possessed great talents for administration. 15 In the meantime, Parliament had been engaged in long and grave discussions on Asiatic afi:airs. The ministry of Lord North, in the session of 1773, intro- duced a measure which made a considerable change in the constitution of the Indian Government. This law, 20 known by the name of the Eegulating Act, provided that the presidency of Bengal should exercise a control over the other possessions of the Company; that the chief of that presidency should be st3ded Governor-General; that he should be assisted by four Councillors ; and 25 that a supreme court of judicature, consisting of a chief justice and three inferior judges, should be established at Calcutta. This court was made independent of the Governor-General and Council, and was intrusted with a civil and criminal jurisdiction of immense and, at the 30 same time, of undefined extent. The Governor-General and Councillors were named in the Act, and were to hold their situations for five years. Hastings was to be the first Governor-General. One of the four new Councillors, Mr. Barwell, an expe- 35 WAKKEN HASTINGS I73 rienced servant of the Company, was then in India. The other three. General Clavering, Mr. Monson, -and Mr. Francis, were sent out from England. The ablest of the new Councillors was, beyond all 5 doubt, Philip Francis. His acknowledged compositions proved that he possessed considerable eloquence and information. Several years passed in the public offices had form.ed him to habits of business. His enemies had never denied that he had a fearless and manly spirit ; 10 and his friends, we are afraid, must acknowledge that his estimate of himself was extravagantly high, that his temper was irritable, that his deportment was often rude and petulant, and that his hatred was of intense bitterness and long duration. 15 It is scarcely possible to mention this eminent man without adverting for a moment to the question which his name at once suggests to every mind. Was he the author of the Letters of Junius f Our own firm belief is that he was. The evidence is, we think, such as would 20 support a verdict in a civil, nay, in a criminal pro- ceeding. The handwriting of Junius is the very peculiar handwriting of Francis, slightly disguised. As to the position, pursuits, and connections of Junius, the fol- lowing are the most important facts which can be con- 25 sidered as clearly proved : first, that he was acquainted with the technical forms of the Secretary of State's office; secondly, that he was intimately acquainted with the business of the War Office; thirdly, that he, during the year 1770, attended debates in the House of Lords, 30 and took notes of speeches, particularly of the speeches of Lord Chatham; fourthly, that he bitterly resented the appointment of Mr. Chamier to the place of Deputy Secretary-at-War ; fifthly, that he was bound by some strong tie to the first Lord Holland. Now, Francis 35 passed some years in the Secretary of State's office. He 174 MAC AUL AY'S ESSAYS was subsequently Chief Clerk of the War Office. He rep.eatedly mentioned that he had himself, in 1770, heard speeches of Lord Chatham; and some of these speeches were actually printed from his notes. He resigned his clerkship at the War Office from resent- 5 ment at the appointment of Mr. Chamier. It was by Lord Holland that he was first introduced into the public service. Now, here are five marks, all of which ought to be found in Junius. They are all five found in Francis. We do not believe that more than two of 10 them can be found in any other person whatever. If this argument does not settle the question, there is an end of all reasoning on circumstantial evidence. The internal evidence seems to us to point the same way. The style of Francis bears a strong resemblance 15 to that of Junius; nor are we disposed to admit, what is generally taken for granted, that the acknowledged compositions of Francis are very decidedly inferior to the anonymous letters. The argument from inferiority, at all events, is one which may be urged with at least 20 equal force against every claimant that has ever been mentioned, with the single exception of Burke; and it would be a waste of time to prove that Burke was not Junius. And what conclusion, after all, can be drawn from mere inferiority ? Every writer must produce his 25 best work; and the interval between his best work and his second best work may be very wide indeed. Nobody will say that the best letters of Junius are more de- cidedly superior to the acknowledged works of Francis than three or four of Corneille^s tragedies to the rest, 30 than three or four of Ben Jonson's comedies to the rest, than the Pilgrim's Progress to the other works of Bun- yan, than Don Quixote to the other works of Cervantes. Nay, it is certain that Junius, whoever he may have been, was a most unequal v/riter. To go no further than 35 WAEEEN HASTINGS I75 the letters which bear the signature of Junius ; the letter to the king, and the letters to Home Tooke, have little in common, except the asperity; and asperity was an ingredient seldom wanting either in the writings or in 5 the speeches of Francis. Indeed one of the strongest reasons for believing that Francis was Junius is the moral resemblance between the two men. It is not difficult, from the letters which, under various signatures, are known to have been writ- 10 ten by Junius, and from his dealing with Woodfall and others, to form a tolerably correct notion of his charac- ter. He was clearly a man not destitute of real patriot- ism and magnanimity, a man whose vices were not of a sordid kind. But he must also have been a man in 15 the highest degree arrogant and insolent, a man prone to malevolence, and prone to the error of mistaking his malevolence for public virtue. "Doest thou well to be angry?" was the question asked in old times of the Hebrew prophet. And he answered, "I do well." This 20 was evidently the temper of Junius ; and to this cause we attribute the savage cruelty which disgraces several of his letters. No man is so merciless as he who, under a strong self-delusion, confounds his antipathies with his duties. It may be added that Junius, though allied 25 with the democratic party by common enmities, was the very opposite of a democratic politician. While attacking individuals with a ferocity which perpetually violated all the laws of literary warfare, he regarded the most defective parts of old institutions with a respect 30 amounting to pedantry, pleaded the cause of Old Sarum with, fervour, and contemptuously told the capitalists of Manchester and Leeds that, if they wanted votes, they might buy land and become freeholders of Lanca- shire and Yorkshire. All this, we believe, might stand. 176 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS with scarcely any change, for a character of Philip Francis. It is not strange that the great anonymous writer should have been willing at that time to leave the coun- try which had been so powerfully stirred by his elo- 5 •quence. Everything had gone against him. That party which he clearly preferred to every other, the party of George Grenville, had been scattered by the death of its •chief; and Lord Suffolk had led the greater part of it over to the ministerial benches. The ferment produced 10 by the Middlesex election had gone down. Every fac- tion must have been alike an object of aversion to Junius. His opinions on domestic affairs separated him from the Ministry; his opinions on colonial affairs from the Opposition. Under such circumstances, he had 15 thrown down his pen in misanthropical despair. His farewell letter to Woodfall bears date the nineteenth of January, 1773. In that letter, he declared that he must be an idiot to write again; that he had meant well by the cause and the public ; that both were given up ; that 20 there were not ten men who would act steadily together on any question. "But it is all alike," he added, "vile and contemptible. You have never flinched that I know of; and I shall always rejoice to hear of your pros- perity." These were the last words of Junius. In a 25 3^ear from that time, Philip Francis was on his voyage to Bengal. With the three new Councillors came out the judges ■of the Supreme Court. The chief justice was Sir Elijah Impey. He was an old acquaintance of Hastings ; and 80 it is probable that the Governor-General, if he had searched through all the inns of court, could not have found an equally serviceable tool. But the members of Council were by no means in an obsequious mood. Hastings greatly disliked the new form of government, 35 WAKEEN HASTINGS 177 and had no very high opinion of his coadjutors. They had heard of this, and were disposed to be suspicious and punctilious. When men are in such a frame of mind, any trifle is sufficient to give occasion for dis- 5 pute. The members of Council expected a salute of twenty-one guns from the batteries of Fort William. Hastings allowed them only seventeen. They landed in ill-humour. The first civilities were exchanged with cold reserve. On the morrow commenced that long 10 quarrel which, after distracting British India, was re- newed in England, and in which all the most eminent statesmen and orators of the age took active part on one or the other side. Hastings was supported by Barwell. They had not 15 always been friends. But the arrival of the new mem- bers of Council from England naturally had the effect of uniting the old servants of the Company. Claver- ing, Monson, and Francis formed the majority. They instantly wrested the government out of the hands of 20 Hastings, condemned, certainly not without justice, his late dealings Avith the N'abob Vizier, recalled the Eng- lish agent from Oude, and sent thither a creature of their own, ordered the brigade which had conquered the unhappy Eohillas to return to the Company's terri- 25 tories, and instituted a severe inquiry into the conduct of the war. Next, in spite of the Governor-General's remonstrances, they proceeded to exercise, in the most indiscreet manner, their new authority over the sub- ordinate presidencies; threw all the affairs of Bombay 30 into confusion ; and interfered, with an incredible union of rashness and feebleness, in the intestine disputes of the Mahratta Government. At the same time, they fell on the internal administration of Bengal, and attacked the whole fiscal and judicial system, a system 35 which was undoubtedh' defective but which it was very 278 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS improbable that gentlemen fresh from England would be competent to amend. The effect of their reforms was that all protection to life and property was with- drawn, and that gangs of robbers plundered and slaugh- tered with impunity in the very suburbs of Calcutta. 5 Hastings continued to. live in the Government-house, and to draw the salary of Governor-General. He con- tinued even to take the lead at the council-board in the transaction of ordinary business; for his opponents could not but feel that he knew much of which they lo were ignorant, and that he decided, both surely and speedily, many questions which to them would have been hopelessly puzzling. But the higher powers of government and the most valuable patronage had been taken from him. 15 The natives soon found this out. They considered him as a fallen man; and they acted after their kind. Some of our readers may have seen, in India, a cloud of crows pecking a sick vulture to death, no bad type of what happens in that country, as often fortune de- 20 serfs one who has been great and dreaded. In an instant, all the sycophants who had lately been ready to lie for him, to forge for him, to pandar for him, to poison for him, hasten to purchase the favour of his victorious enemies by accusing him. An Indian govern- 25 ment has only to let it be understood that it wishes a particular man to be ruined ; and, in twenty-four hours, it will be furnished with grave charges, supported by depositions so full and circumstantial that any person unaccustomed to Asiatic mendacity would regard them 30 as decisive. It is well if the signature of the destined victim is not counterfeited at the foot of some illegal compact, and if some treasonable paper is not slipped into a hiding-place in his house. Hastings was now regarded as helpless. The power to make or mar the S5 WAEEEN HASTINGS I79 fortune of every man in Bengal had passed, as it seemed, into the hands of the new Councillors. Immediately charges against the Governor-General began to pour in. They were eagerly welcomed by the majority, who, to 5 do them justice, were men of too much honour know- ingly to countenance false accusations, but w^ho were not sufficiently acquainted with the East to be aware that, in that part of the world, a very little en- couragement from power will call forth in a week, more 10 Oateses, and Bedloes, and Dangerfields, than West- minster Hall sees in a century. It would have been strange indeed if, at such a Junc- ture, Nuncomar had remained quiet. That bad man was stimulated at once by malignity, by avarice, and by 15 ambition. 'Now was the time to be avenged on his old enemy, to wreak a grudge of seventeen years, to estab- lish himself in the favour of the majority of the Coun- cil, to become the greatest native in Bengal. From the time of the arrival of the new Councillors, he had 20 paid the most marked court to them, and had in con- sequence been excluded, with all indignity, from the Government-house. He now put into the hands of Francis, with great ceremony, a paper, containing sev- eral charges of the most serious description. By this 25 document Hastings was accused of putting offices up to sale, and of receiving bribes for suffering offenders to escape. In particular, it was alleged that Mahommed Eeza Khan had been dismissed with impunit}^, in con- sideration of a great sum paid to the Governor-General. 30 Francis read the paper in Council. A violent alter- cation followed. Hastings complained in bitter terms of the way in which he was treated, spoke with con- tempt of N'uncomar and of N"uncomar's accusation, and denied the right of the Council to sit in judgment on 35 the Governor. At the next meeting of the Board, an- 180 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS other communication from l^uncomar was produced. He requested that he might be permitted to attend the Council, and that he might be heard in support of his assertions. Another tempestuous debate took place. The Governor-General maintained that the council-room 5 was not a proper place for such an investigation; that from persons who were heated by daily conflict with him he could not expect the fairness of judges; and that he could not, without betraying the dignity of his post, submit to be confronted with such a man as Nun- 10 comar. The majority, however, resolved to go into the charges. Hastings rose, declared the sitting at an end, and left the room, followed by Barwell. The other members kept their seats, voted themselves a council, put Clavering in the chair, and ordered Nuncomar to 15 be called in. Nuncomar not only adhered to the origi- nal charges, but, after the fashion of the East, produced a large supplement. He stated that Hastings had re- ceived a great sum for appointing Eajah Goordas treasurer of the Nabob's household, and for committing 20 the care of his Highnesses person to the Munny Begum. He put in a letter purporting to bear the seal of the Munny Begum, for the purpose of establishing the truth of his story. The seal, whether forged, as Hast- ings affirmed, or genuine, as we are rather inclined to 25 believe, proved nothing. Nuncomar, as everybody knows who knows India, had only to tell the Munny Begum that such a letter would give pleasure to the majority of the Council, in order to procure her attestation. The majority, however, voted that the charge was made out ; so that Hastings had corruptly received between thirty and forty thousand pounds; and that he ought to be com- pelled to refund. The general feeling among the English in Bengal was strongly in favour of the Governor- General. In talents 35 WAEEEN HASTINGS 181 for business, in knowledge of the country, in general courtesy of demeanour, he was decidedly superior to his persecutors. The servants of the Company were nat- urally disposed to side with the most distinguished mem- 5 ber of their own body against a clerk from the War Office, who, profoundly ignorant of the native language,, and of the native character, took on himself to regulate every department of the administration. Hastings, how- ever, in spite of the general sympathy of his country- 10 men, was in a most painful situation. There was still an appeal to higher authority in England. If that authority took part with his enemies, nothing was left to him but to throw up his office. He accordingly placed his resignation in the hands of his agent in London, 15 Colonel Macleane. But Macleane was instructed not to produce the resignation, unless it should be fully ascer- tained that the feeling at the India House was adverse to the Governor-General. The triumph of Xuncomar seemed to be complete. 20 He held a daily levee, to which his countrymen resorted in crowds, and to which on one occasion, the majority of the Council condescended to repair. His house was an office for the purpose of receiving charges against the Governor- General, It was said that, partly by 25 threats, and partly by wheedling, the villainous Brahmin had induced many of the wealthiest men of the province to send in complaints. But he was playing a perilous game. It was not safe to drive to despair a man of such resources and of such determination as Hastings. 30 Xuncomar, with all his acuteness, did not understand the nature of the institutions under which he lived. He saw that he had with him the majority of the body which made treaties, gave places, raised taxes. The separation between political and judicial functions was 35 a thing of which he had no conception. It had probably 182 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS never occurred to him that there was in Bengal an authority perfectly independent of the Council^, an authority which could protect one whom the Council washed to destroy, and send to the gibbet one whom the Council wished to protect. Yet such was the fact. The 5 Supreme Court was, within the sphere of its own duties, altogether independent of the Government. Hastings, with his usual sagacity, had seen how much advantage he might derive from possessing himself of this stronghold ; and he had acted accordingly. The 10 Judges, especially the Chief Justice, were hostile to the majority of the Council. The time had now come for putting this formidable machinery into action. On a sudden, Calcutta was astounded by the news that Nuncomar had been taken up on a charge of felony, 15 committed, and thrown into the common gaol. The crime imputed to him was that six years before he had forged a bond. The ostensible prosecutor was a native. But it was then, and still is, the opinion of everybody, idiots and biographers excepted, that Hastings was the 20 real mover in the business. The rage of the majority rose to the highest point. They protested against the proceedings of the Supreme Court, and sent several urgent messages to the Judges, demanding that Nuncomar should be admitted to bail. 25 The Judges returned haughty and resolute answers. All that the Council could do was to heap honours and emoluments on the family of Nuncomar; and this they did. In the meantime the assizes commenced; a true bill was found ; and Nuncomar was brought before Sir so Elijah Impey and a jury composed of Englishmen. A great quantity of contradictory swearing, and the necessity of having every word of the evidence inter- preted, protracted the trial to a most unusual length. At last a verdict of guilty was returned, and the Chief 35 WAEKEN HASTINGS 183 Justice pronoimced sentence of death on the prisoner. That Impey ought to have respited Nuncomar we hold to be perfectly clear. Whether. the whole proceed- ing was not illegal, is a question. But it is certain, that S whatever may have been, according to technical rules of construction, the effect of the statute under which the trial took place, it was most unjust to hang a Hindoo for forgery. The law which made forgery capital in England was passed without the smallest reference to 10 the state of society in India. It was unknown to the natives of India. It had never been put in execution among them, certainly not for want of delinquents. It was in the highest degree shocking to all their notions. They were not accustomed to the distinction which many 15 circumstances, peculiar to our own state of society, have led us to make between forgery and other kinds of cheating. The counterfeiting of a seal was, in their estimation, a common act of swindling ; nor had it ever crossed their minds that it was to be punished as 20 severely as gang-robbery or assassination. A just judge would, beyond all doubt, have reserved the case for the consideration of the sovereign. But Impey would not hear of mercy or delay. The excitement among all classes was great. Francis 25 and Francis's few English adherents described the Governor-General and the Chief Justice as the worst of murderers. Clavering, it was said, swore that even at the foot of the gallows, Nimcomar should be rescued. The bulk of European society, though strongly attached 30 to the Governor-General, could not but feel compassion for a man w^ho, with all his crimes, had so long filled so large a space in their sight, who had been great and powerful before the British empire in India began to exist, and to whom, in the old times, governors and 35 members of Council, then mere commercial factors, had 184 MACAULAY^S ESSAYS paid court for protection. The feeling of the Hindoos was infinitely stronger. They were, indeed, not a people to strike one blow for their countryman. But his sen- tence filled them with sorrow and dismay. Tried even by their low standard of morality, he was a bad man. 5 But, bad as he w^as, he was the head of their race and religion, a Brahmin of the Brahmins. He had inherited the purest and highest caste. He had practised with the greatest punctuality all those ceremonies to which the superstitious Bengalees ascribe far more importance lo than to the correct discharge of the social duties. They felt, therefore, as a devout Catholic in the dark ages would have felt, at seeing a prelate of the highest dig- nity sent to the gallows by a secular tribunal. Accord- ing to their old national laws, a Brahmin could not be 15 put to death for any crime wdiatever. And the crime for which Nuncomar was about to die was regarded by them in much the same light in which the selling of an unsound horse, for a sound price, is regarded by a York- shire jockey. 20 The Mussulmans alone appear to have seen with ex- ultation the fate of the powerful Hindoo, who had attempted to rise by means of the ruin of Mahommed Eeza Khan. The Mahommedan historian of those times takes delight in aggravating the charge. He assures us 25 that in Kuncomar's house a casket was found containing counterfeits of the seals of all the richest men of the province. We have never fallen in with any other authority for this stor}^, which in itself is by no means improbable. 30 The day drew near; and Nuncomar prepared himself to die with that quiet fortitude with which the Bengalee, so effeminat-ely timid in personal conflict, often encoun- ters calamities for which there is no remedy. The sheriff, with the humanity which is seldom wanting in 35 WAEEEN HASTINGS 185 an English gentleman, visited the prisoner on the eve of the execution, and assured him that no indulgence, consistent with the law, should be refused to him. Nuncomar expressed his gratitude with great politeness 5 and unaltered composure. Not a muscle of his face moved. Not a sigh broke from him. He put his finger to his forehead, and calmly said that fate would have its way, and that there was no resisting the pleasure of God. He sent his compliments to Francis, Clavering, 10 and Monson, and charged them to protect Eajah Goor- das, who was about to become the head of the Brahmins of Bengal. The sheriff withdrew, greatly agitated by what had passed, and Nuncomar sat composedly down to write notes and examine accounts. 15 The next morning, before the sun was in his power, an immense concourse assembled round the place where the gallows had been set up. Grief and horror were on every face; yet to the last the multitude could hardly believe that the English really purposed to take the life 20 of the great Brahmin. At length the mournful proces- sion came through the crowd. Nuncomar sat up in his palanquin, and looked round him with unaltered seren- ity. He had just parted from those who were most nearly connected wdth him. Their cries and contortions 25 had appalled the European ministers of justice, but had not produced the smallest effect on the iron stoicism of the prisoner. The only anxiety which he expressed was that men of his own priestly caste might be in attendance to take charge of his corpse. He again 30 desired to be remembered to his friends in the Council, mounted the scaffold with firmness, and gave the signal to the executioner. The moment that the drop fell, a howl of sorrow and despair rose from the innumerable spectators. Hundreds turned away their faces from the 35 polluting sight, fled with loud wailings towards the 186 ' MACAULAY'S ESSAYS Hoogley, and plunged into its holy waters, as if to purify themselves from the guilt of having looked on such a crime. These feelings were not confined to Calcutta. The whole province was greatly excited ; and the popula- tion of Dacca, in particular, gave strong signs of griefs and dismay. Of Impey's conduct it is impossible to speak too severely. We have already said that, in our opinion, he acted unjustly in refusing to respite Nuncomar. No rational man can doubt that he took this course in order lo to gratify the Governor-General. If we had ever had any doubts on that point, they would have been dis- pelled by a letter which Mr. Gleig has published. Hastings, three or four years later, described Impey as the man "to whose support he was at one time indebted is for the safety of his fortune, honour, and reputation." These strong words can refer only to the case of Nun- comar; and they must mean that Impey hanged Nun- comar in order to support Hastings. It is, therefore, our deliberate opinion that Impey, sitting as a judge, 20 put a man unjustly to death in order to serve a political purpose. But we look on the conduct of Hastings in a some- wliat different light. He was struggling for fortune, honour, liberty, all that makes life valuable. He was 25 beset by rancorous and unprincipled enemies. From his colleagues he could expect no justice. He cannot be blamed for wishing to crush his accusers. He was indeed bound to use only legitimate means for that end. But it was not strange that he should have thought 30 any means legitimate which were pronoimced legitimate by the sages of the law, by men whose peculiar duty it was to deal justly between adversaries, and whose education might be supposed to have peculiarly qualified them for the discharge of that duty. Nobody demands 35 WAEEEN HASTINGS 187 from a party the unbending equit}^ of a judge. The reason that judges are appointed is, that even a good man cannot be trusted to decide a cause in which he is himself concerned. Not a day passes on which an 5 honest prosecutor does not ask for what none but a dishonest tribunal would grant. It is too much to expect that any man, when his dearest interests are at stake, and his strongest passions excited, will, as against himself, be more just than the sworn dispensers of justice. To 10 take an analogous case from the history of our own island; suppose that Lord Stafford, when in the Tower on suspicion of being concerned in the Popish plot, had been apprised that Titus Gates had done something which might, by a questionable construction, be brought 15 under the head of a felony. Should we severely blame Lord Stafford, in the supposed case, for causing a prose- cution to be instituted, for furnishing funds, for using all his influence to intercept the mercy of the Crown? We think not. If a judge, indeed, from favour to the 20 Catholic lords, were to strain the law in order to hang Gates, such a judge would richly deserve impeachment. But it does not appear to us that the Catholic lord, by bringing the case before the judge for decision, would materially overstep the limits of a just self-defence. 25 While, therefore, we have not the least doubt that this memorable execution is to be attributed to Hastings, we doubt whether it can with justice be reckoned among his crimes. That his conduct was dictated by a pro- found policy is evident. He was in a minority in Coun- 30 cil. It was possible that he might long be in a minorit}^ He knew the native character well. He knew in what abundance accusations are certain to flow in against the most innocent inhabitant of India who is under the frown of power. There was not in the whole-black popu- 35 lation of Bengal a place-holder, a place-hunter, a gov- 188 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS eminent tenant, who did not think that he might better himself by sending up a deposition against the Gov- ernor-General. Under these circumstances, the perse- cuted statesman resolved to teach the whole crew of accusers and witnesses, that, though in a minority at 5 the council-board, he was still to be feared. The lesson which he gave then was indeed a lesson not to be for- gotten. The head of the combination which had been formed against him, the richest, the most powerful, the most artful of the Hindoos, distinguished by the lo favour of those who then held the government, fenced round by the superstitious reverence of millions, was hanged in broad day before many thousands of people. Everything that could make the warning impressive, dignity in the sufferer, solemnity in the proceeding, was 15 found in this case. The helpless rage and vain strug- gles of the Council made the triumph more signal. From that moment the conviction of every native was that it was safer to take the part of Hastings in a minority than that of Francis in a majority, and that 20 he who was so venturous as to join in running down the Governor- General might chance, in the phrase of the Eastern poet, to find a tiger, while beating the jungle for a deer. The voices of a thousand informers were silenced in an instant. From that time, whatever diffi- 25 culties Hastings might have to encounter, he was never molested by accusations from natives of India. It is a remarkable circumstance that one of the letters of Hastings to Dr. Johnson bears date a very few hours after the death of Nuncomar. While the whole settle- 30 ment was in commotion, while a mighty and ancient priesthood were weeping over the remains of their chief, the conqueror in that deadly grapple sat down, with characteristic self-possession to write about the Tour to WAREEN HASTINGS iS9 the Hebrides, Jones's Persian Grammar, and the history, traditions, arts, and natural productions of India. In the meantime, intelligence of the Eohilla war, and of the first disputes between Hastings and his colleagues, 5 had reached London. The Directors took part with the majority, and sent out a letter filled with severe reflec- tions on the conduct of Hastings. They condemned, in strong but just terms, the iniquity of undertaking oflensive wars merely for the sake of pecuniary advan- 10 tage. But they utterly forgot that, if Hastings had by illicit means obtained pecuniary advantages, he had done so, not for his own benefit, but in order to meet their demands. To enjoin honesty, and to insist on having what could not be honestly got, was then the 15 constant practice of the Company. As Lady Macbeth says of her husband, they "would not play false, and yet would wrongly win." The Eegulating Act, by which Hastings had been appointed Governor-General for five years, empowered 20 the Crown to remove him on an address from the Com- pany. Lord !N'orth was desirous to procure such an address. The three members of Council who had been sent out from England were men of his own choice. General Clavering, in particular, was supported by a 25 large parliamentary connection, such as no Cabinet could be inclined to disoblige. The wish of the minister was to dis23lace Hastings, and to put Clavering at the head of the Government. In the Court of Directors parties were very nearly balanced. Eleven voted against Hast- 30 ings; ten for him. The Court of Proprietors was then convened. The great sale-room presented a singular appearance. Letters had been sent by the Secretary of the Treasury, exhorting all the supporters of Govern- ment who held India stock to be in attendance. Lord 35 Sandwich marshalled the friends of the administration 190 MACALTLAY'S ESSAYS with his "usual dexterity and alertness. Fifty peers and privy councillors, seldom seen so far eastward, were counted in the crowd. The debate lasted till midnight. The opponents of Hastings had a small superiority on the division ; but a ballot was demanded ; and the result 5 was that the Governor-General triumphed by a majority of above a hundred votes over the combined efforts of the Directors and the Cabinet. The ministers were greatly exasperated by this defeat. Even Lord North lost his temper, no ordinary occurrence with him, and lo threatened to convoke Parliament before Christmas, and to bring in a bill for depriving the Company of all political power, and for restricting it to its old business of trading in silks and teas. Colonel Macleane, who through all this conflict had 15 zealously supported the cause of Hastings, now thought that his employer was in imminent danger of being turned out, branded with parliamentary censure, per- haps prosecuted. The opinion of the Crown lawyers had already been taken respecting some parts of the Gov- 20 ernor-Genera?s conduct. It seemed to be high time to think of securing an honourable retreat. Under these circumstances, Macleane thought himself justified in producing the resignation with which he had been intrusted. The instrument was not in very accurate 25 form ; but the Directors were too eager to be scrupulous. They accepted the resignation, fixed on Mr. Wheler, one of their own body, to succeed Hastings, and sent out orders that General Clavering, as senior member of Council, should exercise the functions of Governor-Gen- 30 eral till Mr. Wheler should arrive. But, while these things were passing in England, a great change had taken place in Bengal. Monson was no more. Only four members of the Government were left. Clavering and Francis were on one side, Barwell 35 WAEREN HASTINGS 191 and the Governor-General on the other; and the Gov- ernor-General had the casting vote. Hastings, who had been during two years destitute of all power and patron- age, became at once absolute. He instantly proceeded 3 to retaliate on his adversaries. Their measures were reversed : their creatures were displaced. A new valua- tion of the lands of Bengal, for the purposes of taxa- tion, was ordered: and it was provided that the whole inquiry should be conducted by the Governor-General, 10 and that all the letters relating to it should run in his name. He began, at the same time, to revolve vast plans of conquest and dominion, plans which he lived to see realised, though not by himself. His project was to form subsidiary alliances with the native princes, par- 15 ticularly with those of Oude and Berar, and thus to make Britain the paramount power in India. While he was meditating these great designs, arrived the intel- ligence that he had ceased to be Governor-General, that his resignation had been accepted, that Wheler was com- 20 ing out immediatelv, and that, till Wheler arrived, the chair was to be filled by Clavering. Had Hastings still been in a minority, he would prob- ably have retired without a struggle; but he was now the real master of British India, and he was not dis- 25 posed to quit his high place. He asserted that he had never given any instructions which could warrant the steps taken at home. What his instructions had been, he owned he had forgotten. If he had kept a copy of them he had mislaid it. But he was certain that he had 30 repeatedly declared to the Directors that he would not resign. He could not see how the court possessed of that declaration from himself, could receive his resignation from the doubtful hands of an agent. If the resigna- tion were invalid, all the proceedings which were 192 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS founded on that resignation were null, and Hastings was still Governor-General. He afterwards affirmed that, though his agents had not acted in conformity with his instructions, he would nevertheless have held himself bound by their acts, if 5 Clavering had not attempted to seize the supreme power by violence. Whether this assertion were or were not true, it cannot be doubted that the imprudence of Claver- ing gave Hastings an advantage. The General sent for the keys of the fort and of the treasury, took possession lo of the records, and held a council at which Francis attended. Hastings took the chair in another apartment, and Barwell sat with him. Each of the two parties had a plausible show of right. There was no authority entitled to their obedience within fifteen thousand miles. 15 It seemed that there remained no way of settling the dispute except an appeal to arms; and from such an appeal Hastings, confident of his influence over his coun- trj^men in India, was not inclined to shrink. He directed the officers of the garrison at Fort William and of all 20 the neighbouring stations to obey no orders but his. At the same time, with admirable judgment, he offered to submit the case to the Supreme Court, and to abide by its decision. By making this proposition he risked nothing ; yet it was a proposition which his opponents 25 could hardly reject. Nobody could be treated as a criminal for obeying what the judges should solemnly pronounce to be the lawful government. The boldest man would shrink from taking arms in defence of what the judges should pronounce to be usurpation. Claver- so ing and Francis, after some delay, unwillingly consented to abide by the award of the court. The court pro- nounced that the resignation was invalid, and that there- fore Hastings was still Governor-General under the Eegulating Act ; and the defeated members of the Coun- 35 WAEEEX HASTINGS 193 cil, finding that the sense of the whole settlement was against them, acquiesced in the decision. About this time arrived the news that, after a suit which had lasted several years, the Franconian courts 5 had decreed a divorce between Imhoff and his wife. The Baron left Calcutta, carrying with him the means of buying an estate in Saxony. The lady became Mrs. Hastings. The event was celebrated by great festivities ; and all the most conspicuous persons at Calcutta, with- 10 out distinction of parties, were invited to the Govern- ment-house. Clavering, as the Mahommedan chronicler tells the story, was sick in mind and body, and excused himself from joining the splendid assembly. But Hast- ings, whom, as it should seem, success in ambition and 15 in love had put into high good-humour, would take no denial. He went himself to the General's house, and at length brought his vanquished rival in triumph to the gay circle which surrounded the bride. The e'xertion was too much for a frame broken by mortification as 20 well as by disease. Clavering died a few days later. Wheler, who came out expecting to be Governor- General, and was forced to content himself with a seat at the council-board, generally voted with Francis. But the Governor-General, with Barwell's help and his own 25 casting vote, was still the master. Some change took place at this time in the feeling both of the Court of Directors and of the Ministers of the Crown. All de- signs against Hastings were dropped; and, when his original term of five 3'ears expired, he was quietly reap- 30 pointed. The truth is, that the fearful dangers to which the public interests in every quarter were now exposed, made both Lord North and the Company un- willing to part with a Governor whose talents, experi- ence, and resolution, enmity itself was compelled to 35 acknowledge. 194 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS The crisis was indeed formidable. That great and victorious empire, on the throne of which George the Third had taken his seat eighteen years before, with brighter hopes than had attended the accession of any of the long line of English sovereigns, had, by the most 5 senseless misgovernment, been brought to the verge of ruin. In America millions of Englishmen were at war with the country from which their blood, their language, their religion, and their institutions were derived, and to which, but a short time before, they had been as lo strongly attached as the inhabitants of Norfolk and Leicestershire. The great powers of Europe, humbled to the dust by the vigour and genius which had guided the councils of George the Second, now rejoiced in the prospect of a signal revenge. The time was approaching 15 when our island, while struggling to keep down the United States of America, and pressed with a still nearer danger by the too just discontents of Ireland, was to be assailed by France, Spain, and Holland, and to be threatened by the armed neutrality of the Baltic ; when 20 even our maritime supremacy was to be in jeopardy; when hostile fleets were to command the Straits of Calpe and the Mexican Sea; when the British flag was to be scarcely able to protect the British Channel. Great as were the faults of Hastings, it was happy for our coun- 25 try that at that conjuncture, the most terrible through which she has ever passed, he was the ruler of her Indian dominions. An attack by sea on Bengal was little to be appre- hended. The danger was that the European enemies of 30 England might form an alliance with some native power, might furnish that power with troops, arms, and ammunition, and might thus assail our possessions on the side of the land. It was chiefly from the Mahrattas that Hastings anticipated danger. The original seat 35 WAEEEN HASTINGS 195 of that singular people was tlie wild range of hills which runs along the western coast of India. In the reign of Aurungzebe the inhabitants of those regions, led by the great Sevajee, began to descend on the possessions of 5 their wealthier and less warlike neighbors. The energy, ferocity, and cunning of the Mahrattas, soon made them the most conspicuous among the new powers which were generated by the corruption of the decaying monarchy. At first they were only robbers. They soon rose to the 10 dignity of conquerors. Half the provinces of the empire were turned into Mahratta principalities. Freebooters, sprung from low castes, and accustomed to menial em- ployments, became mighty Eajahs. The Bonslas, at the head of a band of plunderers, occupied the vast region 15 of Berar. The Guicowar, which is, being interpreted, the Herdsman, founded that dynasty which still reigns in Guzerat. The houses of Scindia and Holkar waxed great in Malwa. One adventurous captain made his nest on the impregnable rock of Gooti. Another became 20 the lord of the thousand villages which are scattered among the green rice-fields of Tanjore. That was the time throughout India of double gov- ernment. The form and the power were everywhere separated. The Mussulman nabobs who had become 25 sovereign princes, the Vizier in Oude, and the Nizam at Hyderabad, still called themselves the viceroys of the House of Tamerlane. In the same manner the Mah- ratta states, though really independent of each other, pretended to be members of one empire. They all ac- 30 knowledged, by words and ceremonies, the supremacy of the heir of Sevajee, a roi faineant who chewed bang and toyed with dancing girls in a state prison at Sattara, and of his Peshwa or mayor of the palace, a great hereditary magistrate, wdio kept a court with kingly state 196 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS at Poonah, and whose authority was obeyed in the spa- cious provinces of Aurungabad and Bejapoor. Some months before war was declared in Europe the Government of Bengal was alarmed by the news that a French adventurer, who passed for a man of quality, 5 had arrived at Poonah. It was said that he had been Received there with great distinction, that he had deliv- ered to the Peshwa letters and presents from Louis the Sixteenth, and that a treaty, hostile to England, had been concluded between France and the Mahrattas. 10 Hastings immediately resolved to strike the first blow. The title of the Peshwa was not undisputed. A por- tion of the Mahratta nation was favourable to a pre- tender. The Governor- General determined to espouse this pretender^s interest, to move an army across the 15 peninsula of India, and to form a close alliance with the chief of the house of Bonsla, who ruled Berar, and who, in power and dignity, was inferior to none of the Mahratta princes. The army had marched, and the negotiations with 20 Berar were in progress, when a letter from the English consul at Cairo brought the news that war had been proclaimed both in London and Paris. All the measures which the crisis required were adopted by Hastings without a moment's delay. The French factories in 25 Bengal were seized. Orders were sent to Madras that Pondicherry should instantly be occupied. Near Cal- cutta works were thrown up which were thought to ren- der the approach of a hostile force impossible. A maritime establishment was formed for the defence of 30 the river. Nine new battalions of sepoys were raised, and a corps of native artillery was formed out of the hardy Lascars of the Bay of Bengal. Having made these arrangements, the Governor- General, with calm confidence, pronounced his presidency secure from all 35 WAEKEN PIASTINGS 19^ attack, unless the Mahrattas should inarch against it in conjunction with the French. The expedition which Hastings had sent westward was not so speedily or completely successful as most of 5 his undertakings. The commanding officer procras- tinated. The authorities at Bombay blundered. But the Governor-General persevered. A new commander repaired the errors of his predecessor. Several brilliant actions spread the military renown of the English 10 through regions where no European flag had ever been seen. It is probable that, if a new and more formid- able danger had not compelled Hastings to change his whole policy, his plans respecting the Mahratta empire would have been carried into complete effect. 15 The authorities in England had wisely sent out to Bengal, as commander of the forces and member of the Council, one of the most distinguished soldiers of that time. Sir Eyre Coote had, many years before, been conspicuous among the founders of the British 20 empire in the East. At the council of war which pre- ceded the battle of Plassey, he earnestly recommended^ in opposition to the majority, that daring course which,, after some hesitation, was adopted, and which was crowned with such splendid success. He subsequently 25 commanded in the south of India against the brave and unfortunate Lally, gained the decisive battle of Wande- wash over the French and their native allies, took Pon- dicherry, and made the English power supreme in the Carnatic. Since those great exploits near twenty years 30 had elapsed. Coote had no longer the bodily activity which he had shown in earlier days ; nor was the vigour of his mind altogether unimpaired. He was capricious and fretful, and required much coaxing to keep him in good humour. It must, we fear, be added that the love 35 of money had grown upon him, and that he thought 198 MACAULAY^S ESSAYS more about his allowances, and less about Ms duties, ilian might have been expected from so eminent a mem- ber of so noble a profession. Still he was perhaps the ablest officer that was then to be found in the British army. Among the native soldiers his name was greats and his influence unrivalled. Nor is he yet forgotten by them. Now and then a white-bearded old sepoy may still be found who loves to talk of Porto Novo and Pollilore. It is but a short time since one of those aged men came to present a memorial to an English officer, lo W'ho holds one of the highest employments in India. A print of Coote hung in the room. The veteran recog- nised at once that face and figure which he had not seen ior more than half a century, and, forgetting his salaam to the living, halted, drew himself up, lifted is his hand, and with solemn reverence paid his military obeisance to the dead. Coote, though he did not, like Barwell, vote constantly with the Governor-General, was by no means inclined to join in systematic opposition, and on most questions 20 concurred with Hastings, who did his best, by assiduous courtship, and by readily granting the most exorbitant allowances, to gratify the strongest passions of the old soldier. It seemed likely at this time that a general reconcilia- 25 tion would put an end to the quarrels which had, during some years, weakened and disgraced the Government of Bengal. The dangers of the empire might well induce men of patriotic feeling — and of patriotic feeling neither Hastings nor Francis was destitute — ^to forget so private enmities, and to co-operate heartily for the gen- eral good. Coote had never been concerned in faction. Wheler was thoroughly tired of it. Barwell had made an ample fortune, and, though he had promised that he w^ould not leave Calcutta while his help was needed in 35 WAEEEX HASTINGS 199 Council, was most desirous to return to England, and exerted himself to promote an arrangement which would set him at libert}-. A compact was made, by which Francis agreed to 5 desist from opposition, and Hastings engaged that the friends of Francis should be admitted to a fair share of the honours and emoluments of the service. During a few months after this treaty there was apparent harmony at the council-board. 10 Harmony, indeed, was never more necessary: for at this moment internal calamities, more formidable than war itself, menaced Bengal. The authors of the Eegu- lating Act of 1773 had established two independent powers, the one judicial, and the other political; and, 15 with a carelessness scandalously common in English legislation, had omitted to define the limits of either. The judges took advantage of the indistinctness, and attempted to draw to themselves supreme authority not only within Calcutta, but through the whole of the 20 great territory subject to the Presidency of Fort Will- iam. There are few Englishmen w^ho will not admit that the English law, in spite of modern improvements, is neither so cheap nor so speedy as might be wished. Still, it is a system which has grown up among us. 25 In some points it has been fashioned to suit our feel- ings; in others, it has gradually fashioned our feelings to suit itself. Even to its worst evils w^e are accus- tomed ; and therefore^ though we may complain of them, they do not strike us with the horror and dismay which 30 would be produced by a new grievance of smaller severity. In India the case is widely different. English law, transplanted to that country, has all the vices from which we suffer here; it has them all in a far higher degree ; and it has other vices, compared with which the 35 worst vices from which we suffer are trifles. Dilatory 200 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS here, it is far more dilatory in a land where the help of an interpreter is needed by every judge and by every advocate. Costly here, it is far more costly in a land into which the legal practitioners must be im- ported from an immense distance. All English labour 5 in India, from the labour of the Governor-General and the Commander-in-Chief, down to that of a groom or a watchmaker, must be paid for at a higher rate than at home. No man will be banished, and banished to the torrid zone, for nothing. The rule holds good with 10 respect to the legal profession. No English barrister will work, fifteen thousand miles from all his friends, with the thermometer at ninety-six in the shade, for the emoluments which will content him in chambers that overlook the Thames. Accordingly, the fees at 15 Calcutta are about three times as great as the fees of Westminster Hall; and this, though the people of India are, beyond all comparison, poorer than the people of England. Yet the delay and the expense, grievous as they are, form the smallest part of the evil which 20 English law% imported without modifications into India, could not fail to produce. The strongest feelings of our nature, honour, religion, female modesty, rose up against the innovation. Arrest on mesne process was the first step in most civil proceedings ; and to a native 25 of rank arrest was not merely a restraint, but a foul personal indignity. Oaths were required in every stage of every suit; and the feeling of a quaker about an oath is hardly stronger than that of a respectable native. That the apartments of a woman of quality should be 30 entered by strange men, or that her face should be seen by them, are, in the East, intolerable' outrages, out- rages which are more dreaded than death, and which can be expiated only by the shedding of blood. To these outrages the most distinguished families of Ben- 35 WAKEEN HASTINGS 201 gal, Bahar, and Orissa were now exposed. Imagine what the state of our own country would be, if a juris- prudence were on a sudden introduced among us, which should be to us what our jurisprudence was to our 5 Asiatic subjects. Imagine what the state of our country w^ould be, if it were enacted that any man, by merely swearing that a debt was due to him, should acquire a right to insult the persons of men of the most honour- able and sacred callings and of women of the most 10 shrinking delicacy, to horsewhip a general officer, to put a bishop in the stocks, to treat ladies in the way which called forth the blow of Wat Tyler. Something like this was the effect of the attempt which the Supreme Court made to extend its jurisdiction over the 15 whole of the Company's territory. A reign of terror began, of terror heightened by mys- tery ; for even that which was endured was less horrible than that which was anticipated. Xo man knew w^hat was next to be expected from this strange tribunal. 20 It came from beyond the black water, as the people of India, with mysterious horror, call the sea. It con- sisted of judges not one of whom was familiar with the usages of the millions over whom they claimed bound- less authority. Its records were kept in unknown char- 25 acters ; its sentences were pronounced in unknown sounds. It had already collected round itself an army of the worst part of the native population, informers, and false witnesses, and common barrators, and agents of chicane, and above all, a banditti of bailiff's fol- 30 lowers, compared with whom the retainers of the worst English sponging-houses, in the worst times, might be considered as upright and tender-hearted. Many natives,, highly considered among their countrymen, were seized,. " hurried up to Calcutta, flung into the common gaol, 35 not for any crime even imputed, not for any debt that ^02 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS liad been proved, but merely as a precaution till their cause should come to trial. There were instances in which men of the most venerable dignity, persecuted without a cause by extortioners, died of rage and shame in the gripe of the vile alguazils of Impey. The harems 5 of noble Mahommedans, sanctuaries respected in the East by governments which respected nothing else, were burst open by gangs of bailiffs. The Mussulmans, braver and less accustomed to submission than the Hin- doos, sometimes stood on their defence ; and there were 10 instances in which they shed their blood in the door- way, while defending, sword in hand, the sacred apart- ments of their women. Nay, it seemed as if even the faint-hearted Bengalee, who had crouched at the feet of Surajah Dowlah, who had been mute during the 15 administration of Vansittart, would at length find cour- age in despair. No Mahratta invasion had ever spread through the province such dismay as this inroad of English lawyers. All the injustice of former oppressors, Asiatic and European, appeared as a blessing when 20 compared with the justice of the Supreme Court. Every class of the population, English and native, Avith the exception of the ravenous pettifoggers who fattened on the misery and terror of an immense com- munity, cried out loudly against this fearful oppression. 25 But the judges were immovable. If a bailiff was resisted, they ordered the soldiers to be called out. If a servant of the Company, in conformity with the orders of the Government, withstood the miserable catchpoles who, with Impey's writs in their hands, exceeded the inso- so lence and rapacity of gang-robbers, he was flung into prison for contempt. The lapse of sixty years, the virtue and wisdom of many eminent magistrates who have during that time administered justice in the WAEKEN HASTINGS 203 Supreme Court, have not effaced from the minds of the people of Bengal the recollection of those evil days. The members of the Government were, on this sub- ject, united as one man. Hastings had courted the 5 judges ; he had found them useful instruments ; but he was not disposed to make them his own masters, or the masters of India. His mind was large ; his knowledge of the native character most accurate. He saw that the system pursued by the Supreme Court was degrading to 10 the Government and ruinous to the people ; and he resolved to oppose it manfully. The consequence was, that the friendship, if that be the proper word for such a connection, which had existed between him and Impey, was for a time completely dissolved. The Government 15 placed itself firmly between the tyrannical tribunal and the people. The Chief Justice proceeded to the wildest excesses. The Governor-General and all the members of Council were served with writs, calling on them to appear before the King's justices, and to answer for 20 their public acts. This was too much. Hastings, with just scorn, refused to obey the call, set at liberty the persons wrongfully detained by the court, and took measures for resisting the outrageous proceedings of the sheriff's officers, if necessary, by the sword. But he 25 had in view another device, which might prevent the necessity of an appeal to arms. He was seldom at a loss for an expedient; and he knew Impey well. The expedient, in this case, was a very simple one, neither more nor less than a bribe. Impey was, by Act of 30 Parliament, a judge, independent of the Government of Bengal, and entitled to a salary of eight thousand a year. Hastings proposed to make him also a judge in "the Company's service, removable at the pleasure of the Government of Bengal; and to give him, in that 35 capacity, about eight thousand a year more. It was 204 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS understood that, in consideration of this new salary, Impey would desist from urging the high pretensions of his court. If he did urge these pretensions, the Government could, at a moment's notice, eject him from the new place which had been created for him. The 5 bargain was struck; Bengal was saved; an appeal to force was averted ; and the Chief Justice was rich, quiet, and infamous. Of Impey's conduct it is unnecessary to speak. It was of a piece with almost every part of his conduct lo that comes under the notice of history. No other such judge has dishonoured the English ermine, since Jef- freys drank himself to death in the Tower. But we cannot agree with those who have blamed Hastings for this transaction. The case stood thus. The negligent 15 manner in which the Eegulating Act had been framed put it in the power of the Chief Justice to throw a great country into the most dreadful confusion. He was determined to use his power to the utmost, unless he was paid to be still ; and Hastings consented to pay 20 him. The necessity was to be deplored. It is also to be deplored that pirates should be able to exact ransom, by threatening to make their captives walk the plank. But to ransom a captive from pirates has always been held a humane and Christian act ; and it would be 25 absurd to charge the pa3^er of the ransom with corrupt- ing the virtue of the corsair. This, we seriously think, is a not unfair illustration of the relative position of Impey, Hastings, and the people of India. Whether it was right in Impey to demand or to accept a price for 30 powers which, if they really belonged to him, he could not abdicate, which, if they did not belong to him, he ought never to have usurped, and which in neither case he could honestly sell, is one question. It is quite another question whether Hastings was right to give any 35 WABKEN HASTINGS 205 sum, however large, to any man, however worthless, rather than either surrender millions of human beings to pillage, or rescue them by civil war. Francis strongly opposed this arrangement. It may, 5 indeed, be suspected that personal aversion to Impey was as strong a motive with Francis as regard for the welfare of the province. To a mind burning with re- sentment, it might seem better to leave Bengal to the oppressors than to redeem it by enriching them. It is 10 not improbable, on the other hand, that Hastings may have been the more willing to resort to an expedient agreeable to the Chief Justice, because that high func- tionary had already been so serviceable, and might, when existing dissensions were composed, be serviceable 15 again. But it was not on this point alone that Francis was now opposed to Hastings. The peace between them proved to be only a short and hollow truce, during which their mutual aversion was constantly becoming 20 stronger. At length an explosion took place. Hastings publicly charged Francis with having deceived him, and with having induced Barwell to quit the service by insincere promises. Then came a dispute, such as frequently arises even between honourable men, when 25 they may make important agreements by mere verbal communications. An impartial historian will probably be of opinion that they had misunderstood each other; but their minds were so much embittered that they imputed to each other nothing less than deliberate 30 villainy. "I do not,^' said Hastings, in a minute re- corded on the Consultations of the Government, "I do not trust to Mr. Francis's promises of candour, con- vinced that he is. incapable of it. I judge of his public conduct by his private, which I have found to be void 35 of truth and honour." After the Council had risen, 206 MAC AUL AY'S ESSAYS Francis put a challenge into the Governor-G-eneral's hand. It was instantly accepted. They met, and fired. Francis was shot through the body. He was carried to a neighbouring house, where it appeared that the wound, though severe, was not mortal. Hastings in- 5 quired repeatedly after his enemy's health, and proposed to call on him; but Francis coldly declined the visit. He had a proper sense, he said, of the Governor- General's politeness, but could not consent to any pri- vate interview. They could meet only at the council- lo board. In a very short time it was made signally manifest to how great a danger the Governor-General had, on this occasion, exposed his country. A crisis arrived with which he, and he alone, was competent to deal. It is 15 not too much to say that, if he had been taken from the head of affairs, the years 1780 and 1781 would have been as fatal to our power in Asia as to our power in America. The Mahrattas had been the chief objects of appre- 20 hension to Hastings. The measures which he had adopted for the purpose of breaking their power, had at first been frustrated by the errors of those whom he was compelled to employ; but his perseverance and ability- seemed likely to be crowned with success, when a far 25 more formidable danger showed itself in a distant quarter. About thirty years before this time, a Mahommedan soldier had begun to distinguish himself in the wars of Southern India. His education had been neglected ; 30 his extraction was humble. His father had been a petty officer of revenue; his grandfather a wandering dervise. But though thus meanly descended, though ignorant even of the alphabet, the adventurer had no sooner been placed at the head of a body of troops than 35 WAKEEN HASTINGS '^.07 he approved himself a man born for conquest and command. Among the crowd of chiefs who were strug- gling for a share of India, none could compare with him in the qualities of the captain and the statesman. 5 He became a general ; he became a sovereign. Out of the fragments of old principalities, which had gone to pieces in the general wreck, he formed for himself a great, compact, and vigorous empire. That empire he ruled with the ability, severity, and vigilance of 10 Louis the Eleventh. Licentious in his pleasures, im- placable in his revenge, he had yet enlargement of mind enough to perceive how much the prosperity of subjects adds to the strength of governments. He was an op- pressor; but he had at least the merit of protecting his 15 people against all oppression except his own. He was now in extreme old age; but his intellect was as clear, and his spirit as high, as in the prime of manhood. Such was the great Hyder Ali, the founder of the Mahommedan kingdom, of Mysore, and the most for- 20 midable enemy with whom the English conquerors of India have ever had to contend. Had Hastings been governor of Madras, Hyder would have been either made a friend, or vigorously encoun- tered as an enemy. Unhappily the English authorities 25 in the south provoked their powerful neighbour's hos- tility, without being prepared to repel it. On a sudden,. an army of ninety thousand men, far superior in disci- pline and efficiency to any other native force that could be found in India, came pouring through those wild 30 passes which, worn by mountain torrents, and dark with Jungle, lead down from the table-land of Mysore to the plains of the Carnatic. This great army was accompa- nied by a hundred pieces of cannon; and its move- ments were guided by many French officers, trained in 35 the best military schools of Europe. ^08 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS Hyder was everywhere trmmphant. The sepoys in jaany British garrisons flung down their arms. Some iforts were surrendered by treachery, and some by de- spair. In a few days the whole open country north of the Coleroon had submitted. The English inhabitants 5 ^f Madras could already see by night, from the top of .Mount St. Thomas, the eastern sky reddened by a vast rsemicircle of blazing villages. The white villas, to which our countrymen retire after the daily labours of government and of trade, when the cool evening lo breeze springs up from the bay, were now left without inhabitants ; for bands of the fierce horsemen of Mysore had already been seen prowling among the tulip-trees, and near the gay verandas. Even the town was not thought secure, and the British merchants and public 15 functionaries made haste to crowd themselves behind the cannon of Fort St. George. There were the means, indeed, of assembling an army which might have defended the presidency, and even .driven the invader back to his mountains. Sir Hector 20 Munro was at the head of one considerable force; Baillie was advancing with another. United, they might have presented a formidable front even to such -an enemy as Hyder. But the English commanders, neg- lecting those fundamental rules of the military art of 25 which the propriety is obvious even to men who had never received a military education, deferred their junc- tion, and were separately attacked. Baillie^s detach- ment was destroyed. Munro was forced to abandon his baggage, to fling his guns into the tanks, and to so save himself by a retreat which might be called a flight. In three weeks from the commencement of the war, the British empire in Southern India had been brought to the verge of ruin. Only a few fortified places Temained to. us. The glory of our arms had departed. 35 WAEREN HASTINGS oqc) It was known that a great French expedition might soon be expected on the coast of Coromandel. England, beset by enemies on every side, was in no condition to protect such remote dependencies. 5 Then it was that the fertile genius and serene courage of Hastings achieved their most signal triumph. A swift ship, flying before the south-west monsoon, brought the evil tidings in few days to Calcutta. In twenty-four hours the Governor-General had framed a 10 complete plan of policy adapted to the altered state of affairs. The struggle with Hyder was a struggle for life and death. All minor objects must be sacri- ficed to the preservation of the Carnatic. The disputes with the Mahrattas must be accommodated. A large 15 military force and a supply of money must be instantly sent to Madras. But even these measures would be insufficient, unless the war, hitherto so grossly mis- managed, were placed under the direction of a vigorous mind. It was no time for trifling. Hastings deter- 20 mined to resort to an extreme exercise of power, to suspend the incapable governor of Fort St. George, to send Sir Eyre Coote to oppose Hyder, and to intrust that distinguished general with the whole administration of the war. 25 In spite of the sullen opposition of Francis, who had now recovered from his wound, and had returned to the Council, the Governor-General's wise and firm policy was approved by the majority of the Board. The rein- forcements were sent off with great expedition, and- 30 reached Madras before the French armament arrived in the Indian seas. Coote, broken by age and disease, was no longer the Coote of Wandewash ; but he was still a resolute and skilful commander. The progress of Hyder was arrested; and in a few months the great 21/) MACAULAY'S ESSAYS victory of Porto Novo retrieved the honour of the English arms. In the meantime Francis had returned to England, and Hastings was now left perfectly unfettered. Wheler had gradually been relaxing in his opposition, 5 and, after the departure of his vehement and implac- able colleague, co-operated heartily with the Governor- General, whose influence over the British in India, always great, had, by the vigour and success of his recent measures, been considerably increased. 10 But, though the difficulties arising from factions within the Council were at an end, another class of difficulties had become more pressing than ever. The financial embarrassment was extreme. Hastings had to find the means, not only of carrying on the govern- 15 ment of Bengal, but of maintaining a most costly war against both Indian and European enemies in the Car- natic, and of making remittances to England. A few years before this time he had obtained relief by plundering the Mogul and enslaving the Eohillas ; nor were the 20 resources of his fruitful mind by any means exhausted. His first design was on Benares, a city which in wealth, population, dignity, and sanctity, was among the foremost of Asia. It was commonly believed that half a million of human beings was crowded into that 25 labyrinth of lofty alleys, rich with shrines, and mina- rets, and balconies, and carved oriels, to which the sacred apes clung by hundreds. The traveller could scarcely make his way through the press of holy mendi- cants and not less holy bulls. The broad and stately 80 flights of steps which descended from these swarming haunts to the bathing-places along the Ganges were worn every day by the footsteps of an innumerable multitude of worshippers. The schools and temples drew crowds of pious Hindoos from every province 35 WAEEEX HASTINGS 211 where the Brahminical faith was known. Hundreds of devotees came thither every month to die: for it was believed that a peculiarly happy fate awaited the man who should pass from the sacred city into the 5 sacred river. Xor was superstition the only motive which allured strangers to that great metropolis. Com- merce had as many pilgrims as religion. All along the shores of the venerable stream lay great fleets of vessels laden with rich merchandise. From the looms 10 of Benares went forth the most delicate silks that adorned the balls of St. Jameses and of the Petit Trianon; and in the bazars, the muslins of Bengal and the sabres of Oude were mingled with the jewels of Golconda and the shawls of Caslimere. This rich capi- 15 tal; and the surrounding tract, had long been under the immediate rule of a Hindoo prince, who rendered homage to the Mogul emperors. During the great anarchy of India, the lords of Benares became inde- pendent of the Court of Delhi, but were compelled to 20 submit to the authority of the IN'abob of Oude. Oppressed by this formidable neighbour, they invoked the protection of the English. The English protection was given ; and at length the Xabob Vizier, by a solemn treaty, ceded all his rights over Benares to tlie Company. 25 From that time the Eajah was the vassal of the Govern- ]nent of Bengal, acknowledged its supremacy, and en- gaged to send an annual tribute to Fort William. This tribute Cheyte Sing, the reigning prince, had paid with strict punctuality. 30 About the precise nature of the legal relation between the Company and the Eajah of Benares, there has been much warm and acute controversy. On the one side, it has been maintained that Cheyte Sing was merely a great subject on whom the superior powder had a right 35 to call for aid in the necessities of the empire. On the 212 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS other side^ it has been contended that he was an inde- pendent prince, that the only claim which the Company had upon him was for a fixed tribute, and that, while the fixed tribute was regularly paid, as it assuredly was, the English had no more right to exact any further 5 contribution from him than to demand subsidies from Holland or Denmark. Nothing is easier than to find precedents and analogies in favour of either view. Our own impression is that neither view is correct. It was too much the habit of English politicians to take 10 it for granted that there was in India a known and definite constitution by which questions of this kind were to be decided. The truth is that, during the inter- val which elapsed between the fall of the house of Tamerlane and the establishment of the British ascend- 15 ency, there was no such constitution. The old order of things had passed away; the new order of things was not yet formed. All was transition, confusion, «Dbscurity. Everybody kept his head as he best might, and scrambled for whatever he could get. There have 20 heen similar seasons in Europe. The time of the disso- lution of the Carlovingian empire is an instance. Who would think of seriously discussing the question, what extent of pecuniary aid and of obedience Hugh Capet had a constitutional right to demand from the Duke of 25 Erittany or the Duke or Normandy? The words "con- stitutional right" had, in that state of society, no mean- ing. If Hugh Capet laid hands on all the possessions 'of the Duke of Normandy, this might be unjust and immoral ; but it would not be illegal, in the sense in so iradiich the ordinances of Charles the Tenth were illegal. If J on the other hand, the Duke of Normandy made war on Hugh Capet, this might be unjust and immoral ; but it would not be illegal in the sense in which the expedition of Prince Louis Bonaparte was illegal. 35 WAKKEN HASTINGS 213' Very similar to this was the state of India sixty years ago. Of the existing governments not a single one could lay claim to legitimacy, or could plead any other title than recent occupation. There was scarcely a prov- 5 ince in which the real sovereignty and the nominal sovereignty were not disjoined. Titles and forms were, still retained which implied that the heir of Tamerlane was an absolute ruler, and that the Nabobs of the prov- inces were his lieutenants. In realit}^, he was a captive. 10 The Nabobs were in some places independent princes. In other places, as in Bengal and the Carnatic, they had, like their master, become mere phantoms, and the company was supreme. Among the Mahrattas, again, the heir of Sevajee still kept the title of Eajah; but he 15 was a prisoner, and his prime minister, the Peshwa, had become the hereditary chief of the state. The Peshwa, in his turn, was fast sinking into the same degraded situation into which he had reduced the Eajah. It was, we believe, impossible to find, from the Hima- 20 layas to Mysore, a single government which was at once a government de facto and a government de jure, which possessed the physical means of making itself feared by its neighbours and subjects, and which had at the same time the authority derived from law and long 25 prescription. Hastings clearly discerned, what was hidden from most of his contemporaries, that such a state of things gave immense advantages to a ruler of great talents and few scruples. In every international question that could 30 arise, he had his option between the de facto ground and the de jure ground; and the probability was that one of those grounds would sustain any claim that it might be convenient for him to make, and enable him to resist any claim made by others. In every contro- 35 versy, accordingly, he resorted to the plea which suited 214 MAC AUL AY'S ESSAYS his immediate purpose, without troubling himself in the least about consistency; and thus he scarcely ever failed to find what, to persons of short memories and scanty information, seemed to be a justification for what he wanted to do. Sometimes the Nabob of Bengal 5 is a shadow, sometimes a monarch. Sometimes the Vizier is a mere deputy, sometimes an independent potentate. If it is expedient for the Company to show some legal title to the revenues of Bengal, the grant under the seal of the Mogul is brought forward as an 10 instrument of the highest authority. When the Mogul asks for the rents which were reserved to him by that very grant, he is told that he is a mere pageant, that the English power rests on a very different foundation from a charter given by him, that he is welcome to play 15 at royalty as long as he likes, but that he must expect no tribute from the real masters of India. It is true that it was in the j^ower of others, as well as of Hastings, to practice this legerdemain; but in the controversies of governments, sophistry is of little use 20 unless it be backed by power. There is a principle which Hastings was fond of asserting in the strongest terms, and on which he acted with undeviating steadi- ness. It is a principle which, we must own, though it may be grossly abused, can hardly be disputed in the 25 present state of public laAV. It is this, that where an ambiguous question arises between two governments, there is, if they cannot agree, no appeal except to force, and that the opinion of the stronger must prevail. Almost every question was ambiguous in India. The 30 English Government was the strongest in India. The consequences are obvious. The English Government might do exactly what it chose. The English Government now chose to wring money out of Cheyte Sing. It had formerly been convenient 35 WAKEEN HASTINGS 215 to treat him as a sovereign prince; it was now conveni- ent to treat him as a subject. Dexterity inferior to that of Hastings could easily finely in the general chaos of laws and customs, arguments for either course. Hastings 5 wanted a great supply. It was known that Cheyte Sing had a large revenue, and it was suspected that he had accumulated a treasure. Nor was he a favorite at Cal- cutta. He had, when the Governor-General was in great difficulties, courted the favour of Francis and 10 Clavering. Hastings, who, less perhaps from evil passions than from policy, seldom left an injury unpunished, was not sorry that the fate of Cheyte Sing should teach neighbouring princes the same lesson which the fate of Nuncomar had already impressed on the inhabitants of 15 Bengal. In 1778, on the first breaking out of the war with France, Cheyte Sing was called upon to pay, in addition to his fixed tribute, an extraordinary contribution of fifty thousand pounds. In 1779, an equal sum was 20 exacted. In 1780, the demand was renewed. Cheyte Sing, in the hope of obtaining some indulgence, secretly offered the Governor-General a bribe of twenty thousand pounds. Hastings took the money, and his enemies have maintained that he took it intending to keep it. 25 He certainly concealed the transaction, for a time, both from the Council in Bengal and from the Directors at home; nor did he ever give any satisfactory reason for the concealment. Public spirit, or the feai of detection, at last determined him to withstand the temptation. 30 He paid over the bribe to the Company's treasury, and insisted that the Eajah should instantly comply with the demands of the English Government. The Eajah, after the fashion of his countrymen, shuffled, solicited, and pleaded poverty. The grasp of Hastings was not to be 35 so eluded. He added to the requisition another ten 216 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS thousand pounds as a fine for delay, and sent troops to exact the money. The money was paid. But this was not enough. The late events in the south of India had increased the financial embarrassments of the Company. Hastings 5 was determined to plunder Cheyte Sing, and, for that end, to fasten a quarrel on him. Accordingly, the Eajah was now required to keep a body of cavalry for the service of the British Government. He objected and evaded. This was exactly what the Governor-General lo wanted. He had now a pretext for treating the wealth- iest of his vassals as a criminal. "I resolved," — these were the words of Hastings himself, — "to draw from his guilt the means of relief of the Company's distresses, to make him pay largely for his pardon, or to exact a 15 severe vengeance for j)BiSt delinquency.'' The plan was simply this, to demand larger and larger contributions till the Eajah should be driven to remonstrate, then to call his remonstrance a crime, and to punish him by confiscating all his possessions. 20 Cheyte Sing was in the greatest dismay. He offered two hundred thousand pounds to propitiate the British Government. But Hastings replied that nothing less than half a million would be accepted. K'ay, he began to think of selling Benares to Oude, as he had formerly 25 sold Allahabad and Eohilcund. The matter was one which could not be well managed at a distance; and Hastings resolved to visit Benares. Cheyte Sing received his liege lord with every mark of reverence, came near sixty miles, with his guards, to 30 meet and escort the illustrious visitor, and expressed his deep concern at the displeasure of the English. He even took off his turban, and laid it in the lap of Hastings, a gesture which in India marks the most profound submission and devotion. Hastings behaved 35 WAEEEN HASTINGS oj^ with cold and repulsive severity. Having arrived at Benares, he sent to the Eajali a paper containing the demands of the Government of Bengal. The Eajah^ in reply, attempted to clear himself from the accnsa- 5 tions brought against him. Hastings, who wanted money and not excuses, was not to be put off by the ordinary artifices of Eastern negotiation. He instantly ordered the Eajah to be arrested and placed under the custody of two companies of sepoys. 10 In taking these strong measures, Hastings scarcely showed his usual judgment. It is possible that, having had little opportunity of personally observing any part of the population of India, except the Bengalees, he was not fully aware of the difference between their 15 character and that of the tribes which inhabit the upper provinces. He was now in a land far more favourable to the vigour of the human frame than the Delta of the Ganges; in a land fruitful of soldiers, who have been found worthy to follow English battalions to the 20 charge and into the breach. The Eajah was popular among his subjects. His administration had been mild ; and the prosperity of the district which he governed presented a striking contrast to the depressed state of Bahar under our rule, and a still more striking contrast 25 to the misery of the provinces which were cursed by the tyranny of the Xabob Vizier. The national and re- ligious prejudices with which the English were regarded throughout India were peculiarly intense in the metrop- olis of the Brahminical superstition. It can therefore 30 scarcely be doubted that the Governor-General, before he outraged the dignity of Cheyte Sing by an arrest, ought to have assembled a force capable of bearing dow^n all opposition. This had not been done. The handful of sepoys who attended Hastings would probably have 35 been sufficient to overaw^e Moorshedabad, or the Black 218 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS Town of Calcutta. But they were unequal to a conflict with the hardy rahble of Benares. The streets sur- rounding the palace were filled by an immense multi- tude, of whom a large proportion, as is usual in Upper India, wore arms. The tumult became a fight, and the 5 fight a massacre. The English officers defended them- selves with desperate courage against overwhelming numbers, and fell, as became them, sword in hand. The sepoys were butchered. The gates were forced. The captive prince, neglected by his gaolers during the lO confusion, discovered an outlet which opened on the precipitous banks of the Ganges, let himself down to the water by a string made of the turbans of his attend- ants, found a boat, and escaped to the opposite shore. If Hastings had, by indiscreet violence, brought him- 15 self into a difficult and perilous situation, it is only just to acknowledge that he extricated himself with even more than his usual ability and presence of mind. He had only fifty men with him. The building in which he had taken up his residence was on every side 20 blockaded by the insurgents. But his fortitude remained unshaken. The Eajah from the other side of the river sent apologies and liberal offers. They were not even answered. Some subtle and enterprising men w^ere found w^ho undertook to pass through the throng of 25 enemies, and to convey the intelligence of the late events to the English cantonments. It is the fashion of the natives of India to wear large earrings of gold. When they travel, the rings are laid aside, lest the precious metal should tempt some gang of robbers ; and, in place 30 of the ring, a quill or a roll of paper is inserted in the orifice to prevent it from closing. Hastings placed in the ears of his messengers letters rolled up in the small- est compass. Some of these letters were addressed to the commanders of English troops. One was written 35 WAEEEX HASTINGS 219 to assure liis wife of his safety. One was to the envoy whom he had sent to negotiate with the Mahrattas. Instrnctions for the negotiation were needed ; and the Governor-General framed them in that situation of 5 extreme danger, with as much composure as if he had been writing in his palace at Calcutta. Things, however, were not yet at the worst. An English officer of more spirit than judgment, eager to distinguish himself, made a premature attack on the 10 insurgents beyond the river. His troops were entangled in narrow streets, and assailed by a furious population. He fell, with many of his men; and the survivors were forced to retire. This event produced the effect which has never failed 15 to follow every check, however slight, sustained in India by the English arms. For hundreds of miles round, the whole country was in commotion. The entire popu- lation of the district of Benares took arms. The fields were abandoned by the husbandmen, who thronged to 20 defend their prince. The infection spread to Oude. The oppressed people of that province rose up against the Xabob Vizier, refused to pay their imposts, and put the revenue officers to flight. Even Bahar was ripe for revolt. The hopes of Cheyte Sing began to rise. 25 Instead of imploring mercy in the humble style of a vassal, he began to talk the language of a conqueror, and threatened, it was said, to sweep the white usurpers out of the land. But the English troops were now assembling fast. The officers, and even the private 30 men, regarded the Governor-General with enthusiastic attachment, and flew^ to his aid with an alacrity which, as he boasted, had never been shown on any other occa- sion. Major Popham, a brave and skilful soldier, who had highly distinguished himself in the Mahratta war, 35 and in whom the Governor-General reposed the greatest 220 . MACAULAY'S ESSAYS confidence, took the command. The tumultuary army of the Eajah was put to rout. His fastnesses were stormed. In a few hours, above thirty thousand men left his standard, and returned to their ordinary avoca- tions. The unhappy prince fled from his country for- 5 ever. His fair domain was added to the British domin- ions. One of his relations indeed was appointed Eajah ; but the Eajah of Benares was henceforth to be, like the i^abob of Bengal, a mere pensioner. By this revolution, an addition of two hundred thou- lo sand pounds a year was made to the revenues of the Company. But the immediate relief was not as great as had been expected. The treasure laid up by Cheyte Sing had been popularly estimated at a million sterling. It turned out to be about a fourth part of that sum; 15 and, such as it was, it was seized by the army, and divided as prize-money. Disappointed in his expectations from Benares, Hastings was more violent than he would otherwise have been in his dealings with Oude. Sujah Dowlah 20 had long been dead. His son and successor, Asaph-ul- Dowlah, was one of the weakest and most vicious even of Eastern princes. His life was divided between torpid repose and the most odious forms of sensuality. In his court there was boundless waste, throughout his domin- 25 ions wretchedness and disorder. He had been, under the skilful management of the English Government, gradually sinking from the rank of an independent prince to that of a vassal of the Company. It was only by the help of a British brigade that he could be secure 30 from the aggressions of neighbours who despised his weakness, and from the vengeance of subjects who de- tested his tyranny. A brigade was furnished, and he engaged to defray the charges of paying and main- taining it. From that time his independence was at an 35 WAEEEN HASTINGS 231 end. Hastings was not a man to lose the advantage which he had thus gained. The Xabob soon began to complain of the burden which he had undertaken to bear. His revenues, he said, were falling off; his 5 servants were unpaid ; he could no longer support the expense of the arrangements which he had sanctioned. Hastings would not listen to these representations. The Vizier, he said, had invited the Government of Bengal to send him troops, and had promised to pay for them. 10 The troops had been sent. How long the troops were to remain in Oude was a matter not settled by the treaty. It remained, therefore, to be settled between the con- tracting parties. But the contracting parties differed. "Who then must decide? The stronger. 15 Hasting also argued that, if the English force was withdrawn, Oude would certainly become a prey to anarchy, and would probably be overrun by a Mahratta army. That the finances of Oude were embarrassed he admitted. But he contended, not without reason, that 20 the embarrassment was to be attributed to the incapacity and vices of Asaph-ul-Dowlah himself, and that if less were spent on the troops, the only effect would be that more would be squandered on worthless favourites. Hastings had intended, after settling the affairs of 25 Benares, to visit Lucknow, and there to confer with Asaph-ul-Dowlah. But the obsequious courtesy of the Xabob A^izier prevented this visit. With a small train he hastened to meet the Governor-Oeneral. An inter- view took place in the fortress which, from the crest 30 of the precipitous rock of Chunar, looks down on the waters of the Ganges. At first sight it might appear impossible that the negotiation should come to an amicable close. Hastings wanted an extraordinary supply of money. Asaph-ul- 35 Dowlah wanted to obtain a remission of what he already 222 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS owed. Sncli a difference seemed to admit of no compro- mise. There was, however, one course satisfactory to both sides, one course by which it was possible to relieve the finances both of Onde and of Bengal; and that course was adopted. It was simply this, that the 5 Governor-General and the Nabob Vizier should join to rob a third party ; and the third party whom they deter- mined to rob was the parent of one of the robbers. The mother of the late Nabob and his wife, who was the mother of the present Nabob, were known as the lo Begums or Princesses of Oude. They had possessed great influence over Sujah Dowlah, and had, at his death, been left in possession of a splendid dotation. The domains of which they received the rents and administered the government were of wide extent. The 15 treasure hoarded by the late Nabob, a treasure which was popularly estimated at near three millions sterling, was in their hands. They continued to occupy his favourite palace at Fyzabad, the Beautiful Dwelling; while Asaph-ul-Dowlah held his court in the stately 20 Lucknow, which he had built for himself on the shores of the Goomti, and had adorned with noble mosques and colleges. Asaph-ul-Dowlah had already extorted considerable sums from his mother. She had at length appealed to 25 the English; and the English had interfered. A solemn compact had been made, by which she consented to give her son some pecuniary assistance, and he in his turn promised never to commit any further invasion of her rights. This compact was formally guaranteed by the 30 Government of Bengal. But times had changed ; money was wanted; and the power which had given the guar- antee was not ashamed to instigate the spoiler to excesses such that even he shrank from them. It was necessary to find some pretext for a confisca- 35 WAEKEN HASTINGS 223 tion inconsistent, not merely with plighted faith, not merely with the ordinary rules of humanity and justice, but also with that great law of filial piety which, even in the wildest tribes of savages, even in those more 5 degraded communities which wither under the influence of a corrupt half-civilisation, retains a certain authority over the human mind. A pretext was the last thing that Hastings was likely to want. The insurrection at Benares had produced disturbances in Oude. These 10 disturbances it was convenient to impute to the Princesses*. Evidence for the imputation there was scarcely any; unless reports wandering from one mouth to another, and gaining something by every transmis- sion, may be called evidence. The accused were fur- 15 nished with no charge ; they were permitted to make no defence; for the Governor-General wisely considered that, if he tried them, he might not be able to find a ground for plundering them. It was agreed between him and the Nabob Vizier that the noble ladies should, 20 by a sweeping act of confiscation, be stripped of their domains and treasures for the benefit of the Company, and that the sums thus obtained should be accepted by the Government of Bengal in satisfaction of its claims on the Government of Oude. 25 While Asaph-ul-Dowlah was at Chunar, he was com- pletely subjugated by the clear and commanding intel- lect of the English statesman. But, when they had separated, the Vizier began to reflect with uneasiness on the engagements into which he had entered. His 30 mother and grandmother protested and implored. His heart, deeply corrupted by absolute power and licentious pleasures, yet not naturally unfeeling, failed him in this crises. Even the English resident at Lucknow, though hitherto devoted to Hastings, shrank from extreme 35 measures. But the Governor-General was inexorable. 224 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS He wrote to the resident in terms of the greatest sever- ity, and declared that, if the spoliation which had been agreed npon were not instantly carried into effect, he would himself go to Lucknow, and do that from which feebler minds recoil with dismay. The resident, thus 5 menaced, waited on his Highness, and insisted that the treaty of Chunar should be carried into full and imme- diate effect. Asaph-ul-Dowlah yielded, making at the same time a solemn protestation that he yielded to compulsion. The lands were resumed ; but the treasure lo was not so easily obtained. It was necessary to use yiolence. A body of the Company's troops marched to Eyzabad, and forced the gates of the palace. The Princesses were confined to their own apartments. But still they refused to submit. Some more stringent 15 mode of coercion was to be found. A mode was found of which, even at this distance of time, we cannot speak without shame and sorrow. There were at Fyzabad two ancient men, belonging to that unhappy class which a practice, of immemorial 20 antiquity in the East, has excluded from the pleasures of love and from the hope of posterity. It has always been held in Asiatic courts that beings thus estranged from sympathy with their kind are those whom princes may most safely trust. Sujah Dowlah had been of this 25 opinion. He had given his entire confidence to the two eunuchs ; and after his death they remained at the head of the household of his widow. These men were, by the orders of the British Govern- ment, seized, imprisoned, ironed, starved almost to so death, in* order to extort money from the Princesses. After they had been two months in confinement, their health gave way. They implored permission to take a little exercise in the garden of their prison. The officer who was in charge of them stated that, if they were 35 WAEEEN HASTINGS 225 allowed this indiTlgence, there was not the smallest chance of their escaping, and that their irons really added nothing to the securit}^ of the custody in which they were kept. He did not understand the plan of 5 his superiors. Their object in these inflictions was not security but torture; and all mitigation was refused. Yet this was not the worst. It was resolved by an English government that these two infirm old men should be delivered to the tormentors. For that pur- 10 pose they were removed to Lucknow. What horrors their dungeon there witnessed can only be guessed. But there remains on the records of Parliament, this letter, written by a British resident to a British soldier : "Sir, the ^N'abob having determined to inflict corporal 15 punishment upon the prisoners under your guard, this is to desire that his officers, when they shall come, may have free access to the prisoners, and be permitted to do with them as they shall see proper.^^ \A^ile these barbarities were perpetrated at Lucknow, 20 the Princesses were still under duress at Fyzabad. Food was allowed to enter their apartments only in such scanty quantities that their female attendants were in danger of perishing with hunger. Month after month this cruelty continued, till at length, after twelve hun- 25 dred thousand pounds had been wrung out of the Princesses, Hastings began to think that he had really got to the bottom of their coffers, and that no rigour could extort more. Then at length the wretched men who were detained at Lucknow regained their liberty. 30 When their irons were knocked off, and the doors of their prison opened, their quivering lips, the tears which ran down their cheeks, and the thanksgivings which they poured forth to the common Father of Mussul- mans and Christians, melted even the stout hearts of 35 the English warriors who stood by. 226 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS But we mnst not forget to do justice to Sir Elijah Impey's conduct on this occasion. It was not indeed easy for him to intrude himself into a business so entirely alien from all his official duties. But there was something inexpressibly alluring, we must suppose, 5 in the peculiar rankness of the infamy which was then to be got at Lucknow. He hurried thither as fast as relays of palanquin-bearers could carry him. A crowd of people came before him with affidavits against the Begums, ready drawn in their hands. Those affidavits 10 he did not read. Some of them, indeed, he could not read; for they were in the dialects of Northern India, and no interpreter was employed. He administered the oath to the deponents with all possible expedition, and asked not a single question, not even whether they had 15 perused the statements to which they swore. This work performed, he got again into his palanquin, and posted jjack to Calcutta, to be in time for the opening of term. The cause was one which, by his own confession, lay altogether out of his jurisdiction. Under the charter 20 of justice, he had no more right to inquire into crimes committed by Asiatics in Oude than the Lord President of the Court of Session of Scotland to hold an assize at Exeter. He had no right to try the Begums, nor did he pretend to try them. With what object, then, did 25 he undertake so long a journey? Evidently in order that he might give, in an irregular manner, that sanc- tion which in a regular manner he could not give, to the crimes of those who had recently hired him; and in order that a confused mass of testimony which he did 30 not sift, Avhich he did not even read, might acquire an authority not properly belonging to it, from the signa- ture of the highest judicial functionary in India. The time was approaching, however, when he was to be stripped of that robe which has never, since the 35 WAKREN HASTINGS 237 Revolution, been disgraced so foully as by him. The state of India had for some time occupied much of the attention of the British Parliament. Towards the close of the American war, two committees of the Commons 5 sat on Eastern affairs. In one Edmund Burke took the lead. The other was under the presidency of the able and versatile Henry Dundas, then Lord Advocate of Scotland. Great as are the changes which, during the last sixty years, have taken place in our Asiatic 10 dominions, the reports which those committees laid on the table of the House will still be found most inter- esting and instructive. There was as yet no connection between the Company and either of the great parties in the State. The minis- is ters had no motive to defend Indian abuses. On the contrary, it was for their interest to show, if possible^ that the government and patronage of our Oriental empire might, with advantage, be transferred to them- selves. The votes, therefore, which, in consequence of 20 the reports made by the two committees, were passed by the Commons, breathed the spirit of stem and indig- nant justice. The severest epithets were applied to several of the measures of Hastings, especially to the Eohilla war ; and it was resolved, on the motion of Mr, 25 Dundas, that the Company ought to recall a Governor- General who had brought such calamities on the Indian people, and such dishonour on the British name. An act was passed for limiting the jurisdiction of the Supreme Court. The bargain which Hastings had 30 made with the Chief Justice was condemned in the strongest terms; and an address was presented to the King, praying that Impey might be summoned home to answer for his misdeeds. Impey was recalled by a letter from the Secretary of 35 State. But the proprietors of India Stock resolutely 228 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS refused to dismiss Hastings from their service, and passed a resolution affirming, what was undeniably true, that they were intrusted by law with the right of nam- ing and removing their Governor-General, and that they were not bound to obey the directions of a single 5 branch of the legislature with respect to such nomination or removal. Thus supported by his employers, Hastings remained at the head of the Government of Bengal till the spring of 1785. His administration, so eventful and stormy, lo closed in almost perfect quiet. In the Council there was no regular opposition to his measures. Peace was restored to India. The Mahratta war had ceased. Hyder was no more. A treaty had been concluded with his son, Tippoo ; and the Carnatic had been evacuated 15 by the armies of Mysore. Since the termination of the American war, England had no European enemy or rival in the Eastern seas. On a general review of the long administration of Hastings, it is impossible to deny that, against the 20 great crimes by which it is blemished, we have to set off great public services. England had passed through a perilous crisis. She still, indeed, maintained her place in the foremost rank of European powers ; and the man- ner in which she had defended herself against fearful 25 odds had inspired surrounding nations with a high opinion both of her spirit and of her strength. Never- theless, in every part of the world, except one, she had been a loser. Not only had she been compelled to acknowledge the independence of thirteen colonies 30 peopled by her children, and to conciliate the Irish by - giving up the right of legislating for them ; but, in the ^lediterranean, in the Gulf of Mexico, on the coast of Africa, on the continent of America, she had been com- pelled to cede the fruits of her victories in former wars. 35 WAEREN HASTINGS 239 Spain regained Minorca and Florida; France regained Senegal, Goree, and several West Indian islands. The only quarter of the world in which Britain had lost nothing was the quarter in which her interests had been 5 committed to the care of Hastings. In spite of the utmost exertions both of European and Asiatic enemies, the power of our country in the East had been greatly augmented. Benares was subjected; the Nabob Vizier reduced to vassalage. That our influence had been thus 10 extended, nay, that Fort AVilliam and Fort St. George had not been occupied by hostile armies, was owing, if we may trust the general voice of the English in India, to the skill and resolution of Hastings. His internal administration, with all its blemishes, 15 gives him a title to be considered as one of the most remarkable men in our history. He dissolved the double government. He transferred the direction of affairs to English hands. Out of a frightful anarchy, he educed at least a rude and imperfect order. The whole organisation 20 by which justice was dispensed, revenue collected, peace maintained throughout a territory not inferior in popu- lation to the dominions of Louis the Sixteenth or the Emperor Joseph, was formed and superintended by him. He boasted that every public office, without excep- 25 tion, which existed when he left Bengal, was his crea- tion. It is quite true that this system., after all the improvements suggested by the experience of sixty years, still needs improvement, and that it was at first far more defective than it now is. But whoever seri- 30 ously considers what it is to construct from the begin- ning the whole of a machine so vast and complex as a government, will allow that what Hastings effected deserves high admiration. To compare the most cele- brated European ministers to him seems to us as unjust 35 as it would be to compare the best baker in London with ^30 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS Eobinson Crusoe, who, before he could bake a single loaf, had to make his plough and his harrow, his fences and his scarecrows, his sickle and his flail, his mill and his oven. The just fame of Hastings rises still higher, when 5 we reflect that he was not bred a statesman; that he was sent from school to a counting-house; and that he was employed during the prime of his manhood as a commercial agent, far from all intellectual society. Nor must w^e forget that all, or almost all, to whom, lo when placed at the head of affairs, he could apply for assistance, were persons who owed as little as himself, or less than himself, to education. A minister in Europe finds himself, on the first day on which he com- mences his functions, surrounded by experienced public is servants, the depositaries of official traditions. Hast- ings liad no such help. His own reflections, his own energy, were to supply the place of all Downing Street and Somerset House. Having had no facilities for learning, he was forced to teach. He had first to form 20 himself, and then to form his instruments; and this not in a single department, but in all the departments of the administration. It must be added that, while engaged in this most arduous task, he was constantly trammelled by orders 25 from home, and frequently borne down by a majority in Council. The preservation of an Empire from a formidable combination of foreign enemies, the con- struction of a government in all its parts, were accom- plished by him, while every ship brought out bales of 30 censure from his emplo3^ers, and while the records of every consultation were filled with acrimonious minutes hy his colleagues. We believe that there never was a public man whose temper was so severely tried; not Marlborough, when thwarted by the Dutch Deputies ; 35 WAEEEN HASTINGS 231 not Wellington, when he had to deal at once with the Portuguese Eegency, the Spanish Juntas, and Mr. Per- cival. But the temper of Hastings was equal to almost any trial. It was not sweet; but it was calm. Quick 5 and vigorous as his intellect was, the patience with which he endured the most cruel vexations, till a remedy could be found, resembled the patience of stupidity. He seems to have been capable of resentment, bitter and long enduring; yet his resentment so seldom hur- 10 ried him into any blunder, that it may be doubted whether what appeared to be revenge was anything but policy. The effect of this singular equanimity was that he always had the full command of all the resources of 15 one of the most fertile minds that ever existed. Ac- cordingly no complication of perils and embarrassments could perplex him. For every difficulty he had a con- trivance ready; and, w^hatever may be thought of the justice and humanity of some of his contrivances, it 20 is certain that they seldom failed to serve the purpose for which they were designed. Together with this extraordinary talent for devising expedients, Hastings possessed, in a very high degree, another talent scarcely less necessary to a man in his 25 situation; we mean the talent for conducting political controversy. It is as necessary to an English statesman in the East that he should be able to write, as it is to a minister in this country that he should be able to speak. It is chiefly by the oratory of a public man 80 here that the nation judges of his powers. It is from the letters and reports of a public man in India that the dispensers of patronage form their estimate of him. In each case, the talent which receives peculiar encourage- ment is developed, perhaps at the expense of the other 35 j)owers. In this country, we sometimes hear men speak 232 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS above their abilities. It is not very unusual to find gentlemen in the Indian service who write above their abilities. The English politician is a little too much of a debater; the Indian politician a little too much of an essayist. 5 Of the numerous servants of the Company who have distinguished themselves as framers of minutes and despatches, Hastings stands at the head. He was indeed the person who gave to the official writing of the In- dian governments the character which it still retains, lo He was matched against no common antagonist. But even Francis was forced to acknowledge, with sullen and resentful candour, that there was no contending against the pen of Hastings. And, in truth, the Governor-General's power of making out a case, of 15. perplexing what it was inconvenient that people should understand, and of setting in the clearest point of view whatever would bear the light, was incomparable. His style must be praised with some reservation. It was in general forcible, pure, and polished ; but it was some- 20 times, though not often, turgid, and, on one or two occa- sions, even bombastic. Perhaps the fondness of Hast- ings for Persian literature may have tended to corrupt his taste. And, since we have referred to his literary tastes, it 25 would be most unjust not to praise the judicious en- couragement which, as a ruler, he gave to liberal studies and curious researches. His patronage was extended, with prudent generosit}^, to voyages, travels, experiments, publications. He did little, it is true, towards intro- 30 ducing into India the learning of the West. To make the young natives of Bengal familiar with Milton and Adam Smith, to substitute the geography, astronomy, and surgery of Europe for the dotages of the Brah- minical superstition, or for the imperfect science of 35 WAEKEN HASTINGS 2o3' Ancient Greece transfused through Arabian expositions,, this was a scheme reserved to crown the beneficent ad- ministration of a far more virtuous ruler. Still it is- impossible to refuse high commendation to a man who,. 5 taken from a ledger to govern an empire, overwhelmed by public business, surrounded by people as busy as- himself, and separated by thousands of leagues from almost all literary society, gave, both by his example and by his munificence, a great impulse to learning. 10 In Persian and Arabic literature he was deeply skilled. With the Sanscrit he was not himself acquainted; but those who first brought that language to the knowledge of European students owed much to his encourage- ment. It was under his protection that the Asiatic 15 Society commenced its honourable career. That distin- guished body selected him to be its first president ; but, with excellent taste and feeling, he declined the honour in favour of Sir William Jones. But the chief advan- tage which the students of Oriental letters derived from 20 his patronage remains to be mentioned. The Pundits of Bengal had always looked with great jealousy on the attempts of foreigners to pry into those mysteries which were locked up in the sacred dialect. The Brah- minical religion had been persecuted by the Moham- 25 medans. What the Hindoos knew of the spirit of the Portuguese Government might warrant them in appre- hending persecution from Christians. That apprehen- sion, the wisdom and moderation of Hastings removed. He was the first foreign ruler who succeeded in gaining 30 the confidence of the hereditary priests of India, and who induced them to lay open to English scholars- the secrets of the old Brahminical theolog}^ and jurisprudence. It is indeed impossible to deny that, in the great 35 art of inspiring large masses of human beings with :234 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS confidence and attachment^ no ruler ever surpassed Hastings. If he had made himself popular with the English hy giving up the Bengalees to extortion and oppression, or if, on the other hand, he had conciliated ilie Bengalees and alienated the English, there would 5 have been no cause for wonder. What is peculiar to him is that, being the chief of a small band of strangers, who exercised boundless power over a great indigenous population, he made himself beloved both by the subject many and by the dominant few. The affection felt for 10 him by the civil service was singularly ardent and con- stant. Through all his disasters and perils, his brethren stood by him with steadfast loyalty. The army, at the same time, loved him as armies have seldom loved any but the greatest chiefs who have led them to victory. 15 Even in his disputes with distinguished military men, he could always count on the support of the military profession. While such was his empire over the hearts of his countrymen, he enjoyed among the natives a popularity, such as other governors have perhaps better 20 merited, but such as no other governor has been able to attain. He spoke their vernacular dialects with facility and precision. He was intimately acquainted with their feelings and usages. On one or two occasions, for great ends, he deliberately acted in defiance of their 25 opinion; but on such occasions he gained more in their respect than he lost in their love. In general, he care- fully avoided all that could shock their national or religious prejudices. His administration was indeed in many respects faulty ; but the Bengalee standard of 30 good government Avas not high. Under the ^N'abobs, the hurricane of Mahratta cavalry had passed annually over the rich alluvial plain. But even the Mahratta shrank from a conflict with the mighty children of the sea; .and the immense rich harvests of the Lower Ganges 35 WAEKEN HASTINGS 235 were safely gathered in imcler the protection of the English sword. The first English conquerors had been more rapacious and merciless even than the Mahrattas; but that generation had passed away. Defective as. 5 was the police, heavy as were the public burdens, it is probable that the oldest man in Bengal could not recol- lect a season of equal security and prosperity. For the first time within living memory, the province was placed under a government strong enough to prevent others 10 from robbing, and not inclined to play the robber itself. These things inspired gooclv/ill. At the same time, the constant success of Hastings and the manner in which he extricated himself from every difficulty made him an object of superstitious admiration; and the more 15 than real regal splendour which he sometimes displayed dazzled a people who have much in common with chil- dren. Even now, after the lapse of more than fifty years, the natives of India still talk of him as the greatest of the English; and nurses sing children to 20 sleep with a jingling ballad about the fleet horses and richly caparisoned elephants of Sahib Warren Hostein. The gravest offence of which Hastings was gnilty did not affect his popularity with the people of Bengal; for those offences were committed against neighbouring 25 states. Those offences, as our readers must have per- ceived, we are not disposed to vindicate; yet, in order that the censure may be justly apportioned to the trans- gression, it is fit that the motive of the criminal should be taken into consideration. The motive which prompted 30 the worst acts of Hastings was misdirected and iH- regulated public spirit. The rules of justice, the senti- ments of humanity, the plighted faith of treaties, were in his view as nothing, when opposed to the immediate interest of the State. This is no justification, accord- 85 ing to the principles either of morality, or of what we 236 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS believe to be identical with morality, nameW, far-sighted policy. Nevertheless the common sense of mankind, which in questions of this sort seldom goes far wrong, will always recognise a distinction between crimes which originate in an inordinate zeal for the commonwealth, 5 and crimes which originate in selfish cupidity. To the benefit of this distinction Hastings is fairly entitled. There is, we conceive, no reason to suspect that the Eohilla war, the revolution of Benares, or the spoliation of the Princesses of Oude, added a rupee to his for- lo tune. We will not affirm that, in all pecuniary dealings, he showed that punctilious integrity, that dread of the faintest appearance of evil, which is now the glory of the Indian civil service. But when the school in which he had been trained, and the temptations to which he 15 w^as exposed are considered, we are more inclined to praise him for his general uprightness with respect to mone}^, than rigidly to blame him for a few transac- tions which would now be called indelicate and irregular, but which even now would hardly be designated as 20 corrupt. A rapacious man he certainly was not. Had he been so, he would infallibly have returned to his country the richest subject in Europe. We speak within compass, when we say that, without applying any extraordinary pressure, he might easily have obtained 25 from the zemindars of the Company's provinces and from neighboring princes, in the course of thirteen years, more than three millions sterling, and might have ou^tshone the splendour of Carlton House and of the Palais Royal. He brought home a fortune such as 30 a Governor-General, fond of state, and careless of thrift, might easily, during so long a tenure of office, save out of his legal salary. Mrs. Hastings, we are afraid, was less scrupulous. It was generally believed that she accepted presents with great alacrity, and that she thus 35 WAEEEN HASTINGS 237 formed, without the connivance of her husband, a private hoard amounting to several lacs of rupees. We are the more inclined to give credit to this story, be- cause Mr. Gleig, who cannot but have heard it, does not, 5 as far as we have observed, notice or contradict it. The influence of Mrs. Hastings over her husband was indeed such that she might easily have obtained much larger sums than she was ever accused of receiving. At length her health began to give way; and the Gov- 10 ernor-General, much against his will, was compelled to send her to England. He seems to have loved her with that love which is peculiar to men of strong minds, to men whose affection is not easily won or widely dif- fused. The talk of Calcutta ran for some time on the 15 luxurious manner in which he fitted up the round-house of an Indiaman for her accommodation, on the pro- fusion of sandal-wood and carved ivory which adorned her cabin, and on the thousands of rupees which had been expended in order to procure for her the society 20 of an agreeable female companion during the voyage. We may remark here that the letters of Hastings to his wife are exceedingly characteristic. They are ten- der, and full of indications of esteem and confidence; but, at the same time, a little more ceremonious than 25 is usual in so intimate a relation. The solemn courtesy with which he compliments "his elegant Marian^' re- minds us now and then of the dignified air with which Sir Charles Grandison bowed over Miss Byron's hand in the cedar parlour. 30 AtteT some mOnths, Hastings prepared to follow his wife to England. When it was announced that he was about to quit his office, the feeling of the society which he had so long governed manifested itself by many signs. Addresses poured in from Europeans and Asiatics, from 35 civil functionaries, soldiers, and traders. On the day 238 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS on whicli he delivered up the ke3^s of office, a crowd of friends and admirers formed a lane to the quay where he embarked. Several barges escorted him far down the river; and some attached friends refused to quit him till the low coast of Bengal was fading from the 5 view, and till the pilot was leaving the ship. Of his voyage little is known, except that he amused himself with books and with his pen; and that, among the compositions by which he beguiled the tediousness of that long leisure, was a pleasing imitation of Hor- 10 ace's Otium Divos rogat. This little poem was in- scribed to Mr. Shore, afterwards Lord Teignmouth, a man of whose integrity, humanit}^, and honour, it is impossible to speak too highly, but who, like some other excellent members of the civil service, extended to the 15 conduct of his friend Hastings an indulgence of which his own conduct never stood in need. The voyage was, for those times, very speedy. Hast- ings was little more than four months on the sea. In June 1785, he landed at Plymouth, posted to London, 20 appeared at Court, paid his respects in Leadenhall Street, and then retired with his wife to Cheltenham. He was greatly pleased with his reception. The King treated him with marked distinction. The Queen, who had already incurred much censure on account of the 25 favour which, in spite of the ordinary severity of her virtue, she had shown to the ^^elegant Marian," was not less gracious to Hastings. The Directors received him in a solemn sitting; and their chairman read to him a vote of thanks which they had passed without one dis- so sentient voice. "I find myself,'' said Hastings, in a letter written about a quarter of a year after his arrival in England, "I find myself everywhere, and universally, treated with evidences, apparent even to my own obser- vation, that I possess the good opinion of my country." 35 WAKEEN HASTINGS 2S9 The confident and exulting tone of his correspond- ence about this time is the more remarkable because he had already received ample notice of the attack which was in preparation. Within a week after he 5 landed at Plymouth, Burke gave notice in the House of Commons of a motion seriously affecting a gentle- man lately returned from India. The Session, however^ was then so far advanced, that it was impossible to enter on so extensive and important a subject. 10 Hastings, it is clear, was not sensible of the danger of his position. Indeed that sagacity, that judgment^ that readiness in devising expedients, which had dis- tinguished him in the East, seemed now to have for- saken him; not that his abilities were at all impaired; 15 not that he was not still the same man who had tri- imphed over Francis and Nuncomar, who had made the Chief Justice and the Nabob Vizier his tools, who had deposed Cheyte Sing, and repelled H3^der Ali. But an oak, as Mr. Grattan finely said, should not be trans- 20 planted at fifty. A man who having left England when a boy, returns to it after thirty or forty years passed in India, will find, be his talents what they may, that he has much both to learn and to unlearn before he can take a place among English statesmen. The working 25 of a representative system, the war of parties, the arts of debate, the influence of the press, are startling novel- ties to him. Surrounded on every side by new machines and new tactics, he is as much bewildered as Hannibal would have been at Waterloo, or Themistocles at Trafal- 30 gar. His very acuteness deludes him. His very vigour causes him to stumble. The more correct his maxims, when applied to the state of society to which he is accustomed, the more certain they are to lead him astray. This was strikingly the case with Hastings. 35 In India he had a bad hand; but he was master of ,240 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS the game, and he won every stake. In England he held excellent cards, if he had known how to play them; and it was chiefly by his own errors that he was brought to the verge of ruin. Of all his errors the most serious was perhaps the 5 choice of a champion. Clive, in similar circumstances, had made a singularly happy selection. He put him- self into the hands of Wedderburn, afterwards Lord Loughborough, one of the few great advocates who have also been great in the House of Commons. To the lo defence of Clive, therefore, nothing was wanting, neither learning nor knowledge of the world, neither forensic acuteness nor that eloquence which charms political assemblies. Hastings intrusted his interests to a very different person, a Major in the Bengal army, 15 named Scott. This gentleman had been sent over from India some time before as the agent of the Governor- General. It was rumoured that his services were re- warded with Oriental munificence; and we believe that he received much more than Hastings could conven- 20 iently spare. The Major obtained a seat in Parliament, and was there regarded as the organ of his employer. It was'evidently impossible that a gentleman so situated could speak with the authority which belongs to an independent position. Nor had the agent of Hastings 25 the talents necessary for obtaining the ear of an assem- bly which, accustomed to listen to great orators, had naturally become fastidious. He was always on his legs; he was very tedious; and he had only one topic, the merits and wrongs of Hastings. Everybody who 30 knows the House of Commons will easily guess what followed. The Major was soon considered as the great- est bore of his time. His exertions were not confined to Parliament. There was hardly a day on which the newspapers did not contain some puff upon Hastings, 35 WAEEEN HASTINGS 241 signed Asiaticus or Bengalensis, but known to be written by the indefatigable Scott; and hardly a month in which some bulky pamphlet on the same subject, and from the same pen, did not pass to the trunkmakers 5 and the pastry-cooks. As to this gentleman's capacity for conducting a delicate question through Parliament, our readers will want no evidence beyond that which the)^ will find in letters preserved in these volumes. We will give a single specimen of his temper and judgment. 10 He designated the greatest man then living as "that reptile Mr. Burke." In spite, however, of this unfortunate choice, the general aspect of affairs was favourable to Hastings. The King was on his side. The Company and its serv- 15 ants were zealous in his cause. Among public men he had many ardent friends. Such were Lord Mansfield, who had outlived the vigour of his body, but not that of his mind; and Lord Lansdowne, who, though uncon- nected with any party, retained the importance which 20 belongs to great talents and knowledge. The ministers were generally believed to be favourable to the late Governor- General. They owed their power to the clamour which had been raised against Mr. Fox's East India Bill. The authors of that bill, when accused of 25 invading vested rights, and of setting up powers un- known to the constitution, had defended themselves by pointing to the crimes of Hastings, and by arguing that abuses so extraordinary justified extraordinary meas- ures. Those who, by opposing that bill, had raised 30 themselves to the head of affairs, would naturally be inclined to extenuate the evils which had been made the plea for administering so violent a remedy; and such, in fact, was their general disposition. The Lord Chan- cellor Thurlow, in particular, whose great place and 35 force of intellect gave him a weight in the Government 242 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS inferior only to that of Mr. Pitt^, espoused the cause of Hastings with indecorous violence. Mr. Pitt, though he had censured many parts of the Indian system, had studiously abstained from saying a word against the late chief of the Indian Government. To Major Scott, 5 indeed, the young minister had in private extolled Hast- ings as a great, a wonderful man, who had the highest claims on the Government. There was only one objec- tion to granting all that so eminent a servant of the public could ask. The resolution of censure still re- 10 mained in the journals of the House of Commons. That resolution was, indeed, unjust; but, till it was rescinded, could the minister advise the King to bestow any mark of approbation on the person censured? If Major Scott is to be trusted, Mr. Pitt declared that 15 this was the only reason which prevented the advisers of the Crown from conferring a peerage on the late Governor-General. Mr. Dundas was the only important member of the administration who was deeply committed to a different view of the subject. He had moved the 20 resolution which created the difficulty; but even from him little was to be apprehended. Since he had pre- sided over the committee on Eastern affairs, great changes had taken place. He was surrounded by new allies ; he had fixed his hopes on new objects ; and what- 25 ever may have been his good qualities, — and he had many, — flattery itself never reckoned rigid consistency in the number. From the Ministry, therefore, Hastings had every reason to expect support ; and the Ministry was very 30 powerful. The Opposition was loud and vehement against him. But the Opposition, though formidable from the wealth and influence of some of its members, and from the admirable talents and eloquence of others, was outnumbered in Parliament, and odious throughout 35 WAEEEN HASTINGS 243 the country. Xor, as far as we can judge, was the Opposition generally desirous to engage in so serious an undertaking as the impeachment of an Indian Gov- ernor. Such an impeachment must last for years. It 5 must impose on the chiefs of the party an immense load of labor. Yet it could scarcely, in any manner, affect the event of the great political game. The fol- lowers of the coalition were therefore more inclined to revile Hastings than to prosecute him. They lost no 10 opportunity of coupling his name with the names of the most hateful tyrants of whom history makes mention. The wits of Brooks's aimed their keenest sarcasms both at his public and at his domestic life. Some fine dia- monds which he had presented, as it was rumoured, to 15 the royal family, and a certain richly-carved ivory bed which the Queen had done him the honour to accept from him, were favourite subjects of ridicule. One lively poet proposed, that the great acts of the fair Marian's present husband should be immortalised by 20 the pencil of his predecessor; and that Imhoff should be employed to embellish the House of Commons with paintings of the bleeding Kohillas, of Xuncomar swing- ing, of Cheyte Sing letting himself down to the Ganges. Another, in an exquisitely humorous parody of Virgil's 25 third eclogue, propounded the question, what that min- eral could be of which the rays had power to make the most austere of princesses the friend of a wanton. A third described, with gay malevolence, the gorgeous appearance of Mrs. Hastings at St. James's, the galaxy 30 of jewels, torn from Indian Begums, which adorned her head-dress, her necklace gleaming with future votes, and the depending questions that shone upon her ears. Satirical attacks of this description, and perhaps a motion for a vote of censure, would have satisfied the 35 great body of the Opposition. But there were two men 244 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS whose indignation was not to be so appeased, Philip Francis and Edmund Bnrke. Francis had recently entered the House of Commons, and had already established a character there for indus- try and ability. He laboured indeed under one most un- 5 fortunate defect, want of fluency. But he occasionally expressed himself with a dignity and energy worthy of the greatest orators. Before he had been many days in Parliament, he incurred the bitter dislike of Pitt, who constantly treated him with as much asperity as 10 the laws of debate would allow. Neither lapse of years nor change of scene had mitigated the enmities which Francis had brought back from the East. After his usual fashion, he mistook his maleA^olence for virtue, nursed it, as preachers tell us that we ought to nurse 15 our good dispositions, and paraded it, on all occasions, with Pharisaical ostentation. The zeal of Burke was still fiercer; but it was far purer. Men unable to understand the elevation of his mind, have tried to find out some discreditable motive 20 for the vehemence and pertinacity which he showed on this occasion. But they have altogether failed. The idle story that he had some private slight to revenge has long been given up, even by the advocates of Hast- ings. Mr. Gleig supposes that Burke was actuated by 25 party spirit, that he retained a bitter remembrance of the fall of the coalition, that he attributed that fall to the exertions of the East India interest, and that he considered Hastings as the head and the representative of that interest. This explanation seems to be suffi- eo ciently refuted by a reference to dates. The hostility of Burke to Hastings commenced long before the coalition ; and lasted long after Burke had become a strenuous supporter of those by whom the coalition had been defeated. It began when Burke and Fox, closely allied 35 WAEKEN HASTINGS 245 together, were attacking the influence of the Crown, and calling for peace with the American republic. It continued till Burke, alienated from Fox, and loaded with the favours of the Crown, died, preaching a 5 crusade against the French republic. We surely cannot attribute to the events of 1784 an enmity which began in 1781, and which retained undiminished force long after persons far more deeply implicated than Hastings in the events of 1784 had been cordially forgiven. And 10 why should we look for any other explanation of Burke's conduct than that which we find on the surface? The plain truth is that Hastings had committed some great crimes, and that the thought of those crimes made the blood of Burke boil in his veins. For Burke was 15 a man in whom compassion for suffering, and hatred of injustice and tyranny, were as strong as in Las Casas or Clarkson. And although in him, as in Las Casas and in Clarkson, these noble feelings were alloyed with the infirmity which belongs to human nature, he 20 is, like them, entitled to this great praise, that he devoted years of intense labour to the service of a people with whom he had neither blood nor language, neither religion nor manners in common, and from whom no requital, no thanks, no applause could be 25 expected. His knowledge of India was such as few, even of those Europeans who have passed many years in that country have attained, and such as certainly was never attained by any public man who had not quitted Europe. He had 30 studied the history, the laws, and the usages of the East with an industry, such as is seldom found united to so much genius and so much sensibility. Others have per- haps been equally laborious, and have collected an equal mass of materials. But the manner in which 35 Burke brought his higher powers of intellect to 246 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS work on statements of facts, and on tables of fig- ures, was peculiar to himself. In every part of those huge bales of Indian information which re- pelled almost all other readers, his mind, at once philosophical and poetical, found something to instruct 5 or to delight. His reason analysed and digested those vast and shapeless masses; his imagination animated and coloured them. Out of darkness, and dulness, and confusion, he formed a multitude of ingenious theories and vivid pictures. He had, in the highest degree, that lo noble faculty whereby man is able to live in the past and in the future, in the distant and in the unreal. India and its inhabitants were not to him, as to most Englishmen, mere names and abstractions, but a real country and a real people. The burning sun, the 15 strange vegetation of the palm and the cocoa-tree, the rice-field, the tank, the huge trees, older than the Mogul empire, under which the village crowds assemble, the thatched roof of the peasants hut, the rich tracery of the mosque where the imaum prays with his face to 20 Mecca, the drums, and banners, and gaudy idols, the devotee swinging in the air, the graceful maiden, with the pitcher on her head, descending the steps to the riverside, the black faces, the long beards, the yellow streaks of sect, the turbans and the flowing robes, the 25 spears and the silver maces, the elephants with their canopies of state, the gorgeous palanquin of the prince, and the close litter of the noble lady, all these things were to him as the objects amidst which his own life had been passed, as the objects which lay on the road 30 between Beaconsfield and St. James's Street. All India was present to the eye of his mind, from the hall where suitors laid gold and perfumes at the feet of sovereigns to the wild moor where the gipsy camp was pitched, from the bazar, humming like a bee-hive with the crowd 35 WARKEN HASTINGS 247 of buyers and sellers, to the jungle where the lonely courier shakes his bunch of iron rings to scare away the hyenas. He had just as lively an idea of the insur- rection at Benares as of Lord George Gordon's riots, 5 and of the execution of Nuncomar as of the execution of Dr. Dodd. Oppression in Bengal was to him the same thing as oppression in the streets of London. He saw that Hastings had been guilty of some most unjustifiable acts. All tliat followed was natural and 10 necessary in a mind like Burke's. His imagination and his passions, once excited, hurried him beyond the bounds of justice and good sense. His reason, power- ful as it was, became the slave of feelings which it should have controlled. His indignation, virtuous in its 15 origin, acquired too much of the character of personal aveTsion. He could see no mitigating circumstances, no redeeming merit. His temper, which, though generous and affectionate, had always been irritable, had now been made almost savage by bodily infirmities and men- 20tal vexations. Conscious of great powers and great virtues, he found himself, in age and poverty, a mark for the hatred of a perfidious Court and a deluded people. In Parliament his eloquence was out of date. A young generation, which knew him not, had filled 25 the*^ House? Whenever he rose to speak, his voice was drowned bv the unseemly interruption of lads who vfere in their cradles when his orations on the Stamp Act called forth the applause of the great Earl of Chatham. These things had produced on his proud and 80 sensitive spirit an effect at which we cannot wonder. He could no longer discuss any question with calmness, or make allowance for honest differences of opinion. Those who think that he was more violent and acri- monious in debates about India than on other occasions, 35 are ill-informed respecting the last years of his life. 248 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS In the discussions on the Commercial Treaty with the Court of Versailles, on the Eegency, on the French Eeyolution, he showed even more virulence than in conducting the impeachment. Indeed it may be re- marked that the very persons who called him a mis- 5 chievous maniac, for condemning in burning words the Rohilla war and the spoliation of the Begums, exalted him into a prophet as soon as he began to declaim, with greater vehemence, and not with greater reason, against the taking of the Bastille and the insults offered 10 to Marie Antoinette. To us he appears to have been neither a maniac in the former case, nor a prophet in the latter, but in both cases a great and good man, led into extravagance by a sensibility which domineered over all his faculties. 15 It may be doubted whether the personal antipathy of Francis, or the nobler indignation of Burke, would have led their party to adopt extreme measures against Hast- ings, if his own conduct had been judicious. He should have felt that, great as his public services had been, he 20 was not faultless, and should have been content to make his escape, without aspiring to the honours of a triumph. He and his agent took a different view. They were impatient for the rewards which, as they conceived, were deferred only till Burke^s attack should be over. 25 They accordingly resolved to force on a decisive action with an enemy for whom, if they had been wise, they would have made a bridge of gold. On the first day of the session of 1786, Major Scott reminded Burke of the notice given in the preceding year, and asked 30 whether it was seriously intended to bring any charge against the late Governor-General. This challenge left no course open to the Opposition, except to come for- ward as accusers, or to acknowledge themselves calum- niators. The administration of Hastings had not been 35 WAEEEN HASTIA^GIS 2^9 so blameless, nor was the great party of Fox and North so feeble, that it could be prudent to venture on so bold a defiance. The leaders of the Opposition instantly returned the only answer which they could with honour 5 return ; and the whole party was irrevocably pledged to a prosecution. Burke began his operations by applying for Papers. Some of the documents for which he asked were refused by the ministers, who, in the debate, held language such 10 as strongly confirmed the prevailing opinion, that the}^ intended to support Hastings. In April, the charges were laid on the table. They had been drawn by Burke with great ability, though in a form too much resem- bling that of a pamphlet. Hastings was furnished with 15 a copy of 'the accusation; and it was intimated to him that he might, if he thought fit, be heard in his own defence at the bar of the Commons. Here again Hastings was pursued by the same fatality which had attended him ever since the day when he set 20 foot on English ground. It seemed to be decreed that this man, so politic and so successful in the East, should commit nothing but blunders in Europe. Any judicious adviser would have told him that the best thing which he could do would be to make an eloquent, forcible, and 25 affecting oration at the bar of the House ; but that, if he could not trust himself to speak, and found it necessary to read, he ought to be as concise as possible. Audiences accustomed to extemporaneous debating of the highest excellence are always impatient of long written compo- se sitions. Hastings, however, sat down as he would have done at the Government-house in Bengal, and prepared a paper of immense length. That paper, if recorded on the consultations of an Indian administration, would have been justly praised as a very able minute. But it 35 was now out of place. It fell flat, as the best written 250 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS defence must have fallen flat, on an assembly accus- tomed to the animated and strenuous conflicts of Pitt and Fox. The members, as soon as their curiosity about the face and demeanour of so eminent a stranger was satisfied, walked away to dinner, and left Hastings to 5 tell his story till midnight to the clerks and the Serjeant-at-Arms. All preliminary steps having been duly taken, Burke, in the beginning of June, brought forward the charge relating to the Eohilla war. He acted discreetly in lO placing this accusation in the van; for Dundas had formerly moved, and the House had adopted, a resolu- tion condemning, in the most severe terms, the policy followed by Hastings with regard to Eohilcund. Dundas had little, or rather nothing, to say in defence 15 of his own consistency; but he put a bold face on the matter, and opposed the motion. Among other things, he declared that, though he still thought the Eohilla war unjustifiable, he considered the services which Hastings had subsequently rendered to the State as 20 sufficient to atone even for so great an offense. Pitt did not speak, but voted with Dundas; and Hastings w^as absolved by a hundred and nineteen votes against sixty-seven. Hastings was now confident of victory. It seemed, 25 indeed, that he had reason to be so. The Eohilla war was, of all his measures, that which his accusers might with greatest advantage assail. It had been condemned by the Court of Directors. It had been condemned by the House of Commons. It had been condemned by 30 Mr, Dundas, who had since become the chief minister of the Crown, for Indian affairs. Yet Burke, having chosen this strong ground, had been completely defeated on it. That, having failed here, he should succeed on any point, was generally thought impossible. It was 35 WAKEEN HASTINGS 251 rumoured at the clubs and coffee-houses that one or perhaps two more charges would be brought forward, that if, on those charges, the sense of the House of Commons should be against impeachment, the Oppo- 5 sition would let the matter drop, that Hastings would be immediately raised to the peerage, decorated with the star of the Bath, sworn of the Privy Council, and invited to lend the assistance of his talents and experi- ence to the India Board. Lord Thurlow, indeed, some 10 months before, had spoken with contempt of the scruples which prevented Pitt from calling Hastings to the House of Lords; and had even said that, if the Chan- cellor of the Exchequer was afraid of the Commons, there was nothing to prevent the Keeper of the Great 15 Seal from taking the royal pleasure about a patent of peerage. The very title was chosen. Hastings was to be Lord Daylesford. For, through all changes of scene and changes of fortune, remained unchanged his attach- ment to the spot which had witnessed the greatness and 20 the fall of his family, and which had borne so great a part in the first dreams of his young ambition. But in a very few days these fair prospects were overcast. On the thirteenth of June, Mr. Fox brought forward, with great ability and eloquence, the charge 25 respecting the treatment of Cheyte Sing. Francis fol- lowed on the same side. The friends of Hastings were in high spirits when Pitt rose. A¥ith his usual abun- dance and felicity of language, the Minister gave his opinion on the case. He maintained that the Governor- 30 General was justified in calling on the Eajah of Benares for pecuniary assistance, and in imposing a fine when that assistance was contumaciously withheld. He also thought that the conduct of the Governor-General during the insurrection had been distinguished by 35 ability and presence of mind. He censured, with great 252 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS bitterness, the conduct of Francis, both in India and in Parliament, as most dishonest and malignant. The necessary inference from Pitf s arguments seemed to be that Hastings ought to be honourably acquitted; and both the friends and the opponents of the Minister 5 expected from him a declaration to that effect. To the astonishment of all parties, he concluded by saying that, though he thought it right in Hastings to fine Cheyte Sing for contumacy, yet the amount of the fine was too great for the occasion. On this ground, and on this lo ground alone, did Mr. Pitt, applauding every other part of the conduct of Hastings with regard to Benares, declare that he should vote in favour of Mr. Fox's motion. The House was thunderstruck ; and it well might be 15 so. For the wrong done to Cheyte Sing, even had it been as flagitious as Fox and Francis contended, was a trifle when compared with the horrors which had been inflicted on Eohilcund. But if Mr. Pitt's view of the case of Cheyte Sing were correct, there was no ground for an 20 impeachment, or even for a vote of censure. If the offence of Hastings was really no more than this, that, having a right to impose a mulct, the amount of which mulct was not defined, but was left to be settled by his discretion, he had, not for his own advantage, but for 25 that of the State, demanded too much, was this an offence Avhich required a criminal proceeding of the highest solemnity, a criminal proceeding, to which, dur- ing sixty years, no public functionary had been sub- jected ? We can see, we think, in what way a man of 30 sense and integrity might have been induced to take any course respecting Hastings, except the course which Mr. Pitt took. Such a man might have thought a great example necessary, for the preventing of injustice, and for the vindicating of the national honour, and might, 35 WAEKEN HASTINGS 253 on that ground, have voted for impeachment both on the Eohilla charge, and on the Benares charge. Such a man might have tliought that the offences of Hastings had been atoned for by great services, and might, on 5 that ground, have voted against the impeachment, on both charges. With great diffidence, we give it as our opinion that the most correct course would, on the whole, have been to impeach on the Eohilla charge, and to acquit on the Benares charge. Had the Benares 10 charge appeared to us in the same light in which it appeared to Mr. Pitt, v/e should, without hesitation, have voted for acquittal on that charge. The one course which it is inconceivable that any man of a tenth part of Mr. Pittas abilities can have honestly taken was the 15 course which he took. He acquitted Hastings on the Eohilla charge. He softened down the Benares charge till it became no charge at all ; and then he pronounced that it contained matter for impeachment. ]N"or must it be forgotten that the principal reason 20 assigned by the ministry for not impeaching Hastings on account of the Eohilla war w^as this, that the delin- quencies of the early part of his administration had been atoned for by the excellence of the later part. Was it not most extraordinary that men who had held this 25 language could afterwards vote that the later part of his administration furnished matter for no less than twenty articles of impeachment ? They first represented the conduct of Hastings in 1780 and 1781 as so highly meritorious that, like works of supererogation in the 30 Catholic theology, it ought to be efficacious for the can- celling of former offences; and they then prosecuted him for his conduct in 1780 and 1781. The general astonishment was the greater, because, only twenty-four hours before, the members on whom 35 the minister could depend had received the usual notes 254 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS from the Treasury, begging them to be in their places and to vote against Mr. Fox's motion. It was asserted by Mr. Hastings, that, early on the morning of the very day on which the debate took place, Dundas called on Pitt, woke him, and was closeted with him many hours. 5 The result of this conference was a determination to give up the late Governor-General to the vengeance of the Opposition. It was impossible even for the most powerful minister to carry all his followers with him in so strange a course. Several persons high in office, the lo Attorney-General, Mr. Grenville, and Lord Mulgrave, divided against Mr. Pitt. But the devoted adherents who stood by the head of the Government without asking questions, were sufficiently numerous to turn the scale. A hundred and nineteen members voted for Mr. Fox's 15 motion; seventy-nine against it. Dundas silently followed Pitt. That good and great man, the late William Wilber- force, often related the events of this remarkable night. He described the amazement of the House, and the bitter 20 reflections which were muttered against the Prime Min- ister by some of the habitual supporters of Government. Pitt himself appeared to feel that his conduct required some explanation. He left the treasury bench, sat for some time next to Mr. Wilberforce, and very earnestly 25 declared that he had found it impossible, as a man of conscience, to stand any longer by Hastings. The busi- ness, he said, was too bad. Mr. Wilberforce, we are bound to add, fully believed that his friend was sincere, and that the suspicions to which this mysterious affair 30 gave rise were altogether unfounded. Those suspicions, indeed, were such as it is painful to mention. The friends of Hastings, most of whom, it is to be observed, generally supported the adminis- tration, affirmed that the motive of Pitt and Dundas 35 WAEREN HASTINGS 255 was jea.lous}^ Hastings was personally a favourite with the King, He was the idol of the East India Com- pany and of its servants. If he were absolved by the Commons, seated among the Lords, admitted to the 5 Board of Control, closely allied with the strong-minded and imperious Thnrlow, was it not almost certain that he would soon draw to himself the entire management of Eastern affairs? Was it not possible that he might become a formidable rival in the Cabinet? It had 10 probably got abroad that very singular communications had taken place between Thurlow and Major Scott, and that, if the First Lord of the Treasury was afraid to recommend Hastings for a peerage, the Chancellor was ready to take the responsibility of that step on 15 himself. Of all ministers, Pitt was the least likely to submit with patience to such an encroachment on his functions. If the Commons impeached Hastings, all danger was at an end. The proceeding, however it might terminate, would probably last some years. In 20 the meantime, the accused person would be excluded from honours and public employments, and could scarcely venture even to pay his duty at Court. Such were the motives attributed by a great part of the public to the young minister, whose ruling passion was gen- 25 erally believed to be avarice of power. The prorogation soon interrupted the discussions respecting Hastings. In the following year, those dis- cussions were resumed. The charge touching the spolia- tion of the Begums was brought forward by Sheridan, 30 in a speech which was so imperfectly reported that it may be said to be wholly lost, but which was, without doubt, the most elaborately brilliant of all the produc- tions of his ingenious mind. The impression which it produced was such as has never been equalled. He sat 35 down, not merely amidst cheering, but amidst the loud 256 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS clapping of hands, in which the Lords below the bar and the strangers in the gallery joined. The excite- ment of the House was such that no other speaker could obtain a hearing; and the debate was adjourned. The ferment spread fast through the town. Within fours and twenty hours, Sheridan was offered a thousand pounds for the copyright of the speech, if he would himself correct it for the press. The impression made by this remarkable display of eloquence on severe and experienced critics, whose discernment may be sup- lo posed to haA^e been quickened by emulation, was deep and permanent. Mr. Windham, twenty years later, said that the speech deserved all its fame, and was, in spite of some faults of taste, such as were seldom want- ing either in the literary or in the parliamentary per- 15 formances of Sheridan, the finest that had been delivered within the memory of man. Mr. Fox, about the same time, being asked by the late Lord Holland what w^as the best speech ever made in the House of Commons, assigned the first place, without hesitation, 20 to the great oration of Sheridan on the Oude charge. When the debate was resumed, the tide ran so strongly against the accused that his friends were coughed and scraped down. Pitt declared himself for Sheridan's motion ; and the question was carried by a 25 hundred and seventy-five votes against sixty-eight. The Opposition, flushed with victory and strongly supported by the public sympathy, proceeded to bring forward a succession of charges relating chiefly to pecuniary transactions. The friends of Hastings were 30 discouraged, and, having now no hope of being able to avert an impeachment, were not very strenuous in their exertions. At length the House, having agreed to twenty articles of charge, directed Burke to go be- fore the Lords, and to impeach the late Governor- 35 WAEKEN HASTINGS 257 General of High Crimes and Misdemeanours. Hastings was at the same time arrested by the Serjeant-at-Arms, and carried to the bar of the Peers. The session was now within ten da3"s of its close. 5 It was, therefore, impossible that an}^ progress could be made in the trial till the next year. Hastings was ad- mitted to bail; and further proceedings were postponed till the Houses should re-assemble. When Parliament met in the following winter, the 10 Commons proceeded to elect a Committee for manag- ing the impeachment. Burke stood at the head; and with him were associated most of the leading members of the Opposition. But when the name of Francis was read a fierce contention arose. It was said that Francis 15 and Hastings were notoriously on bad terms, that they had been at feud during many years, that on one occasion their mutual aversion had impelled them to seek each other^s lives, and that it would be improper and indelicate to select a private enemy to be a public 20 accuser. It was urged on the other side with great force, particularly by Mr. Windham, that impartiality, though the first duty of a judge, had never been reckoned among the qualities of an advocate; that in the ordinary administration of criminal justice among 25 the English, the aggrieved party, the very last person who ought to be admitted into the jury-box, is the prosecutor; that what was wanted in a manager was, not that he should be free from bias, but that he should be able, well informed, energetic, and active. The 30 ability and information of Francis were admitted; and the very animosity with which he was reproached, whether a virtue or a vice, was at least a pledge for his energy and activity. It seems difficult to refute these arguments. But the inveterate hatred borne by Francis 35 to Hastings had excited general disgust. The House 258 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS decided that Francis should not be a manager. Pitt voted with the majority, Dundas with the minority. In the meantime, the preparations for the trial had proceeded rapidly; and on the thirteenth of February, 1788, the sittings of the Court commenced. There 5 have been spectacles more dazzling to the eye, more gorgeous with jewelry and cloth of gold, more at- tractive to grown-up children, than that which was then exhibited at Westminster; but, perhaps, there never was a spectacle so well calculated to strike a highly 10 cultivated, a reflecting, and imaginative mind. All the various kinds of interest which belong to the near and to the distant, to the present and to the past, were collected on one spot and in one hour. All the talents and all the accomplishments which are developed by 15 liberty and civilisation were now displayed, with every advantage that could be derived both from co-operation and from contrast. Every step in the proceedings carried the mind either backward, through many troubled centuries, to the days when the foundations of 20 our constitution were laid; or far awa}^, over boundless seas and deserts, to dusky nations living under strange stars, worshipping strange gods, and writing strange . characters from right to left. The High Court of Parliament was to sit, according to forms handed down 25 from the days of the Plantagenets, on an Englishman accused of exercising tyranny over the lord of the holy city of Benares, and over the ladies of the princely house of Oude. The place was worthy of such a trial. It was the 30 great hall of William Eufus, the hall which had re- sounded with acclamations at the inauguration of thirty kings, the hall which had witnessed the just sentence of Bacon and the just absolution of Somers, the hall where the eloquence of Strafford had for a moment 35 WAKEEN HASTINGS 259 awed and melted a victorious paity inflamed with just resentment, the hall where Charles had confronted the High Court of Justice with the placid courage which has half redeemed his fame. Neither military nor civil 5 pomp was wanting. The avenues were lined with grenadiers. The streets were kept clear by cavalry. The peers, robed in gold and ermine, were marshalled by the heralds under Garter King-at-Arms. The judges in their vestments of state attended to give 10 advice on points of law. Near a hundred and seventy lords, three-fourths of the Upper House as the Upper House then was, walked in solemn order from their usual place of assembling to the tribunal. The junior Baron present led the way, George Eliott, Lord Heath- 15 field, recently ennobled for his memorable defence of Gibraltar against the fleets and armies of France and Spain. The long procession was closed by the Duke of Norfolk, Earl Marshal of the realm, by the great dignitaries, and by the brothers and sons of the King, 20 Last of all came the Prince of Wales, conspicuous by his fine person and noble bearing. The grey old walls were hung with scarlet. The long galleries were crowded by an audience such as has rarely excited the fears or the emulation of an orator. There were 25 gathered together, from all parts of a great, free, en- lightened, and prosperous empire, grace and female loveliness, wit and learning, the representatives of every science and of every art. There were seated round the Queen the fair-haired young daughters of 30 the house of Brunswick. There the Ambassadors of great Kings and Commonwealths gazed with admira- tion on a spectacle which no other country in the world could present. There Siddons, in the prime of her majestic beauty, looked with emotion on a scene sur- 35 passing all the imitations of the stage. There the 360 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS j historian of the Eoman Empire thought of the days when Cicero pleaded the cause of Sicily against Verres, and when, before a senate which still retained some show of freedom, Tacitus thundered against the oppressor of Africa. There were seen, side by side, the 5 greatest painter and the greatest scholar of the age. The spectacle had allured Eeynolds from that easel which has preserved to us the thoughtful foreheads of so many writers and statesmen, and the sweet smiles of so many noble matrons. It had induced Parr to sus- lo pend his labours in that dark and profound mine from which he had extracted a vast treasure of erudition, a treasure too often buried in the earth, too often paraded with injudicious and inelegant ostentation, but still precious, massive, and splendid. There appeared the la voluptuous charms of her to whom the heir of the throne had in secret plighted his faith. There too was she, the beautiful mother of a beautiful race, the Saint . Cecilia, whose delicate features, lighted up by love and music, art has rescued from the common decay. There 20 were the members of that brilliant society which quoted, criticised, and exchanged repartees, under the rich peacock hangings of Mrs. Montague. And there the ladies whose lips, more persuasive than those of Pox himself, had carried the Westminster election 25 against palace and treasury, shone round Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire. The Serjeants made proclamation. Hastings ad- vanced to the bar, and bent his knee. The culprit was Indeed not unworthy of that great presence. He had 30 ruled an extensive and populous country, had made laws and treaties, had sent forth armies, had set up and pulled down princes. And in his high place he liad so borne himself, that all had feared him, that most had loved him, and that hatred itself could deny 35 WAKEEN HASTINGS 261 him no title to glory, except virtue. He looked like a great man, and not like a bad man. A person small and emaciated, yet deriving dignity from a carriage which, while it indicated deference to the Court, in- 5 dicated also habitual self-possession and self-respect, a high and intellectual forehead, a brow pensive, but not gloomy, a mouth of inflexible decision, a face pale and worn, but serene, on which was written, as legibly as under the picture in the council-chamber at Calcutta, .0 Mens cequa in arduis; such was the aspect w^ith which the great proconsul presented himself to his judges. His counsel accompanied him, men all of whom were afterwards raised by their talents and learning to the highest posts in their profession, the bold and strong- .5 minded Law, afterwards Chief Justice of the King's Bench; the more humane and eloquent Dallas, after- wards Chief Justice of the Common Pleas; and Plomer, who, near twenty years later, successfully con- ducted in the same high court the defence of Lord Melville, and subsequently became Vice-chancellor and Master of the Eolls. But neither the culprit nor his advocates attracted so much notice as the accusers. In the midst of the blaze of red drapery, a space had been fitted up w4th green 5 benches and tables for the Commons. The managers, with Burke at their head, appeared in full dress. The collectors of gossip did not fail to remark that even Fox, generally so regardless of his appearance, had paid to the illustrious tribunal the compliment of wearing a bag and sword. Pitt had refused to be one of the conductors of the impeachment; and his commanding, copious, and sonorous eloquence was wanting to that great muster of various talents. Age and blindness had unfitted Lord North for the duties of a public 5 prosecutor; and his friends were left without the help 262 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS of his excellent sense, his tact and his urbanit}'. But in spite of the absence of these two distinguished members of the Lower House, the box in which the managers stood contained an array of speakers such as perhaps had not appeared together since the great age of ' Athenian eloquence. There were Fox and Sheridan, the English Demosthenes and the English Hyperides. There was Burke, ignorant indeed or negligent of the art of adapting his reasonings and his style to the capa- city and taste of'Jiis hearers, but in amplitude of com- M prehension and richness of imagination superior to every orator, ancient or modern. There, with eyes reveren- tially fixed on Burke, appeared the finest gentleman of > the age, his fonii developed by every manly exercise, his face beaming with intelligence and spirit, the i ingenious, the chivalrous, the high-souled Windham. Nor, though surrounded by such men, did the youngest manager pass unnoticed. At an age when most of those who distinguish themselves in life are still con- tending for prizes and fellowships at college, he had 2 won for himself a conspicuous place in Parliament. Xo advantage of fortune or connection was wanting that could set off to tlie height his splendid talents and his unblemished honour. At twenty-three he had been lliought worthy to be ranked with the veteran states- 2 men who appeared as the delegates of the British Commons, at the bar of the British nobility. All who stood at that bar, save him alone, are gone, culprit, advocates, accusers. To the generation which is now in the vigour of life, he is the sole representative of a 3* great age which has passed away. But those who, within the last ten years, have listened with delight, till the morning sun shone on the tapestries of the House of Lords, to the lofty and animated eloquence of Charles Earl Grey, are able to form some estimate 3 WAEKEK HASTINGS 263 of the powers of a race of men among whom he was not the foremost. „ , The charges and the answers of Hastmgs were iir.t read The ceremony occupied two whole days and was S rendered less ted.ous than H would otherwise ha^-e been by the silver voice and just emphasis of Cowper, the clerk of the court, a near relation of the amiable poet. On the third day Burke rose. Four sittings were occu- pied bv his opening speech, which was intended to be a 10 general introduction to all the charges ^A ith an fxuberance of thought and a splendour of diction w^nch more than satisfied the highly raised expectation ot the audience, he described the character and institutions of the natives of India, recounted the circumstances m ,5 which the Asiatic empire of Britain had origmated and set forth the constitution of the Company and of the English Presidencies. Having thus attempted to com- municate to his hearers an idea of Eastern socie y, as viY^d as that which existed in his own nwnd he 20 proceeded to arraign the administration of Hastmgs as svstematicallv conducted in defiance of morality and public law. The energy and pathos of the great orator extorted expressions of unwonted admiration from the stern and hostile Chancellor, and, for a moment, seemed 25 to pierce even the resolute heart of the defendant. The ladies in the galleries, unaccustomed to such displays of eloquence, excited by the solemnity of tbe occasion and perhaps not unwilling to display their taste and sensibilitv, were in a state of uncontrollable emotion. 30 Handkerchiefs were pulled out; smelling bottles were handed round; hysterical sobs and screanis were heaid and Mrs. Sheridan was carried out m a £*• At 'eng m the orator concluded. Eaising his voice ti 11 the old arches of Irish oak resounded, "There ore," said he, 35 "hath it with all confidence been ordered, by the Com- 264 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS mons of Great Britain, that I impeach Warren Hastings of high crimes and misdemeanours. I impeach him in the name of the Commons' House of Parliament, whose trust he has betrayed. I impeach him in the name of the English nation, whose ancient honour he 5 has sullied. I impeach him in the name of the people of India, whose rights he has trodden under foot, and whose country he has turned into a desert. Lastly, in the name of human nature itself, in the name of both sexes, in the name of every age, in the name of every 10 rank, I impeach the common enemy and oppressor of all !" When the deep murmur of various emotions had sub- sided, Mr. Fox rose to address the Lords respecting the course of proceeding to be followed. The wish of the 15 accusers was that the Court would bring to a close the investigation of the first charge before the second was opened. The wish of Hastings and of his counsel was that the managers should open all the charges, and produce all the evidence for the prosecution, before the 20 defence began. The Lords retired to their own House to consider the question. The Chancellor took the side of Hastings. Lord Loughborough, who was now in opposition, supported the demand of the managers. The division showed which way the inclination of the 25 tribunal leaned. A majority of near three to one decided in favour of the course for which Hastings contended. When the Court sat again, Mr. Fox, assisted by Mr. Grey, opened the charge respecting Cheyte Sing, and 30 several days were spent in reading papers and hearing witnesses. The next article was that relating to the Princesses of Oude. The conduct of this part of the case was intrusted to Sheridan. The curiosity of the public to hear him was unbounded. His sparkling and 35 WAKKEN HASTINGS 265 highly finished declamation lasted two days; but the Hall was crowded to suffocation during the whole time. It was said that fifty guineas had been paid for a single ticket. Sheridan, when he concluded, contrived, with 5 a knowledge of stage effect which his father might have envied, to sink back, as if exhausted, into the arms of Burke, who hugged him with the energy of generous admiration. June was now far advanced. The session could not 10 last much longer ; and the progress which had been made in the impeachment was not very satisfactory. There were twenty charges. On two only of these had even the case for the prosecution been heard; and it was now a year since Hastings had been admitted to bail. 15 The interest taken by the public in the trial was great when the Court began to sit, and rose to the height when Sheridan spoke on the charge relating to the Begums. From that time the excitement went down fast. The spectacle had lost the attraction of novelty. 20 The great displays of rhetoric were over. What was^ behind was not of a nature to entice men of letters from their books in the morning, or to tempt ladies who had left the masquerade at two to be out of bed before eight. There remained examinations and cross- 25 examinations. There remained statements of accounts. There remained the reading of papers, filled with words unintelligible to English ears, with lacs and crores, zemindars and aumils, sunnuds and perwannahs,. jaghires and nuzzurs. There remained bickerings, not 30 always carried on with the best taste or the best temper,, between the managers of the impeachment and the counsel for the defence, particularly between Mr. Burke and Mr. Law. There remained the endless marches and counter-marches of the Peers between their House and 35 the Hall : for as often as a point of law was to be- 2eQ MACAULAY^S ESSAYS discussed, their Lordships retired to discuss it apart; and the consequence was, as a Peer wittily said, that the judges walked and the trial stood still. It is to be added that, in the spring of 1788, when the trial commenced, no important question, either of 5 domestic or foreign policy, occupied the public mind. The proceeding in Westminster Hall, therefore, nat- urally attracted most of the attention of Parliament and of the country. It was the one great event of that sea- son. But in the following year the King's illness, the lo debates on the Eegency, the expectation of a change of ministry, completely diverted public attention from Indian affairs; and within a fortnight after George the Third had returned thanks in St. Paul's for his recovery, the States-General of France met at Versailles. In the 15 midst of the agitation produced by these events, the impeachment was for a time almost forgotten. The trial in the Hall went on languidly. In the session of IT 88, when the proceedings had the interest of novelty, and when the Peers had little other business 20 before them, only thirty-five days were given to the impeachment. In 1789, the Eegency Bill occupied the Upper House till the session was far advanced. When the King recovered the circuits were beginning. The judges left tov:n ; the Lords waited for the return of 25 the oracles of jurisprudence; and the consequence was that during the whole year only seventeen days were given to the case of Hastings. It was clear that the matter would be protracted to a length unprecedented in the annals of criminal law. 30 In truth, it is iinpossible to deny that impeachment, though it is a fine ceremony, and though it may have been useful in the seventeenth century, is not a proceed- ing from which much good can now be expected. What- « ever confidence may be placed in the decision of the Peers 35 ; WAEKEN HASTINGS 267 on an appeal arising out of ordinary litigation, it is cer- tain that no man has the least confidence in their impar- tiality, when a great public functionary, charged with a great state crime, is brought to their bar. They are all 5 politicians. There is hardly one among them whose vote on an impeachment may not be confidently predicted before a witness has been examined; and, even if it were possible to rely on their justice, they would still be quite unfit to try such a cause as that of Hastings. 10 They sit only during half the year. They have to transact much legislative and much judicial business. The law-lords, whose advice is required to guide the unlearned majority, are employed daily in administering justice elsewhere. It is impossible, therefore, that 15 during a busy session, the Upper House should give more than a few days to an impeachment. To expect that their Lordships would give up partridge-shooting, in order to bring the greatest delinquent to speedy justice, or to relieve accused innocence by speedy ac- 20 quittal, would be unreasonable indeed. A well-consti- tuted tribunal, sitting regularly six days in the week, and nine hours in the da}^, would have brought the trial of Hastings to a close in less than three months. The Lords had not finished their work in seven years. 25 The result ceased to be matter of doubt, from the time when the Lords resolved that they would be guided by the rules of evidence which are received in the inferior courts of the realm. Those rules, it is well known, exclude much information which would be 30 quite sufficient to determine the conduct of any rea- sonable man, in the most important transactions of private life. These rules, at every assizes, save scores of culprits whom judges, jury, and spectators, firmly believe to be guilty. But when those rules were rigidly 35 applied to offences committed many 3^ears before, at the 268 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS distance of many thousands of miles, conviction was, of course, out of the question. We do not blame the accused and his counsel for availing themselves of every legal advantage in order to obtain an acquittal. But it is clear that an acquittal so obtained cannot be 5 pleaded in bar of the judgment of history. Several attempts were made by the friends of Hastings to put a stop to the trial. In 1789 they proposed a vote of censure upon Burke, for some violent language which he had used respecting the death of ^N'uncomar and the lo connection between Hastings and Impey. Burke was then unpopular in the last degree both with the House and with the country. The asperity and indecency of some expressions which he had used during the debates on the Kegency had annoyed even his warmest friends, is The vote of censure was carried; and those who had moved it hoped that the managers would resign in disgust. Burke was deeply hurt. But his zeal for what he considered as the cause of justice and mercy tri- umphed over his personal feelings. He received the 20 censure of the House with dignity and meekness, and declared that no personal mortfication or humiliation should induce him to flinch from the sacred duty which he had undertaken. In the following year the Parliament was dissolved ; 25 and the friends of Hastings entertained a hope that the new House of Commons might not be disposed to go on with the impeachment. They began by main- taining that the whole proceeding was terminated by the dissolution. Defeated on this point, they made a 30 direct motion that the impeachment should be dropped ; . but they were defeated by the combined forces of the Government and the Opposition. It was, however, re- solved that, for the sake of expedition, many of the articles should be withdrawn. In truth, had not some 35 WAEEEN HASTINGS 369 STich measare been adopted, the trial would have lasted till the defendant was in his grave. At length, in the spring of 1795, the decision was pronounced, near eight years after Hastings had been 5 brought by the Serjeant-at-Arms of the Commons to the bar of the Lords. On the last day of this great procedure the public curiosity, long suspended, seemed to be revived. Anxiety about the judgment there could be done; for it had been fully ascertained that there 10 was a great majority for the defendant. Nevertheless many wished to see the pageant, and the Hall was as much crowded as on the first day. But those who, having been present on the first day, now bore a part in the proceedings of the last, were few; and most of 15 those few were altered men. As Hastings himself said, the arraignment had taken place before one generation, and the judgment was pronounced by another. The spectator could not look at the woolsack, or at the red benches of the Peers, or 20 at the green benches of the Commons, without seeing something that reminded him of the instability of all human things, of the instability of power and fame and life, of the more lamentable instability of friendship. The great seal was borne before Lord Loughborough, 25 who, when the trial commenced, was a fierce opponent of Mr. Pitt's Government, and who was now a member of that Government, while Thurlow, who presided in the court when it first sat, estranged from all his old allies, sat scowling among the junior barons. Of about 30 a hundred and sixty nobler who walked in the procession on the first day, sixty had been laid in their family vaults. Still more affecting must have been the sight of the managers' box. What had become of that fair fellowship, so closely bound together by public and 35 private ties, so resplendent with every talent and accom- 270 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS plishment? It had been scattered by calamities more bitter than the bitterness of death. The great chiefs were still living, and still in the full vigour of their genius. But their friendship was at an end. It had been violently and publicly dissolved, with tears and 5 stormy reproaches. If those men, once so dear to each other, were now compelled to meet for the purpose of managing the impeachment, they met as strangers whom public business had brought together, and be- haved to each other with cold and distant civility, lo Burke had in his vortex whirled away Windham. Fox had been followed by Sheridan and Grey. Only twenty-nine Peers voted. Of these only six found Hastings guilty on the charges relating to Cheyte Sing and to the Begums. On other charges, the majority 15 in his favour was still greater. On some he was unan- imously absolved. He was then called to the bar, was informed from the woolsack that the Lords had acquitted him, and was solemnly discharged. He bowed respectfully and retired. 20 We have said that the decision had been fully expected. It was also generally approved. At the com- mencement of the trial there had been a strong and indeed unreasonable feeling against Hastings. At the 25 close of the trial there was a feeling equally strong and equally unreasonable in his favour. One cause of the change was, no doubt, what is commonly called the fickleness of the multitude, but what seems to us to be merely the general law of human nature. Both in individuals and in masses violent excitement is always so followed by remission, and often by reaction. We are all inclined to depreciate whatever we have overpraised, and, on the other hand, to show undue indulgence where we have shown undue rigour. It was thus in the case of Hastings. The length of his trial, moreover, 53 WAEKEN HASTINGS 271 made him an object of compassion. It was thought, and not without reason, that, even if he was guilty, he was still an ill-used man, and that an impeachment of eight years was more than a sufficient -punishment. It 5 was also felt that, though, in the ordinary course of criminal law, a defendant is not allowed to set off his good actions against his crime, a great political cause should be tried on different principles, and that a man who had governed an empire during thirteen years might 10 have done some very reprehensible things, and yet . might be on the whole deserving of rewards and honours rather than of fine and imprisonment. The press, an instrument neglected by the prosecutors, was used by Hastings and his friends wdth great effect. Every ship, 15 too, that arrived from Madras or Bengal, brought a cuddy full of his admirers. Every gentleman from India spoke of the late Governor-General as havmg deserved better, and having been treated worse, than any man living. The effect of this testimony unanimously 20 given by all persons who knew the East, was naturally very great. Eetired members of the Indian services^ civil and military, were settled in all corners of the king- dom. Each of them was, of course, in his own little circle,, regarded as an oracle on an Indian question; and they 25 were, with scarcely one exception, the zealous advocates of Hastings. It is to be added, that the numerous addresses to the late Governor-General, which his friends in Bengal obtained from the natives and transmitted to England, made a considerable impression. To these 30 addresses we attach little or no importance. That Hastings was beloved by the people whom he governed is true; but the eulogies of pundits, zemindars, Moham- medan doctors, do not prove it to be true. For an English collector or judge would have found it easy 35 to induce any native who could write to sign a panegyric 272 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS on the most odious ruler that ever was in India. It was said that at Benares, the very place at which the acts set forth in the first article of impeachment had been committed, the natives had erected a temple to Hastings; and this story excited a strong sensation in 5 England. Burke's observations on the apotheosis were admirable. He saw no reason for astonishment, he said, in the incident which had been represented as so strik- ing. He knew something of the mythology of the Brahmins. He knew that as they worshipped some gods 10 from love, so they worshipped others from fear. He knew that they erected shrines, not only to the benignant deities of light and plenty, but also to the fiends who preside over smallpox and murder; nor did he at all dispute the claim of Mr. Hastings to be admitted into 15 such a Pantheon. This reply has always struck us as one of the finest that ever was made in Parliament. It is a grave and forcible argument, decorated by the most brilliant wit and fancy. Hastings was, however, safe. But in everything 2C except character, he would have been far better off if, when first impeached, he had at once pleaded guilty, and paid a fine of fifty thousand pounds. He was a ruined man. The legal expenses of his defence had been ^enormous. The expenses which did not appear in his 25 attorney's bill were perhaps larger still. Great sums had been paid to Major Scott. Great sums had been laid out in bribing newspapers, rewarding pam- phleteers, and circulating tracts. Burke, so early as 1790, declared in the House of Commons that twenty 30 thousand pounds had been employed in corrupting the press. It is certain that no controversial weapon, from the gravest reasoning to the coarsest ribaldry, was left unemployed. Logan defended the accused Governor with great ability in prose. For the lovers of verse, the 35 WABEEN HASTINGS 273 speeches of the managers were burlesqued in Simp- kin^s letters. It is, we are afraid, indisputable that Hastings stooped so low as to court the aid of that malignant and filthy baboon, John Williams, who called 5 himself Anthony Pasquin. It was necessary to subsidise such allies largely. The private hoards of Mrs. Hastings had disappeared. It is said that the banker to whom the}^ had been intrusted had failed. Still if Hastings had practised strict economy, he would, after all his 10 losses, haye had a moderate competence ; but in the management of his private affairs he was imprudent. The dearest wish of his heart had always been to regain Daylesford. At length, in the very year in which his trial commenced, the wish was accomplished; and the 15 domain, alienated more than seventy years before, re- turned to the descendant of its old lords. But the manor-house was a ruin ; and the grounds round it had, during many years, been utterly neglected. Hastings proceeded to build, to jjlant, to form a sheet of water, 20 to excavate a grotto ; and, before he was dismissed from the bar of the House of Lords, he had expended more than forty thousand pounds in adorning his seat. The general feeling both of the Directors and of the proprietors of the East India Company was that he had 25 great claims on them, that his services to them had been eminent, and that his misfortunes had been the effect of his zeal for their interest. His friends in Leadenhall Street proposed to reimburse him the costs of his trial, and to settle on him an annuity of five 30 thousand pounds a year. But the consent of the Board of Control was necessary ; and at the head of the Board of Control was Mr. Dundas, who had himself been a party to the impeachment, who had, on that account, been reviled with great bitterness by the adherents of 35 Hastings, and who, therefore, was not in a very com- 274 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS plying mood. He refused to consent to what the Directors suggested. The Directors remonstrated. A long controversy followed. Hastings, in the meantime, was reduced to such distress that he could hardly pay his weekly bills. At length a compromise was made. 5 An annuity for life of four thousand pounds was settled on Hastings; and in order to enable him to meet pressing demands, he was to receive ten years' annuity in advance. The Company was also permitted to lend him fifty thousand pounds, to be repaid by instal- 10 ments without interest. This relief, though given in the most absurd manner, was sufficient to enable the retired Governor to live in comfort, and even in luxury, if he had been a skilful manager. But he was careless and profuse, and vras more than once under the neces- 15 sity of applying to the Company for assistance, which was liberally given. He had security and affluence, but not the power and dignity which, when he landed from India, he had reason to expect. He had then looked forward to a 20 coronet, a red riband, a seat at the Council Board, an office at Whitehall. He was then only fifty-two, and might hope for many years of bodily and mental vigour. The case vras widely different when he left the bar of the Lords. He was now too old a man to 25 turn his mind to a new class of studies and duties. He had no chance of receiving any mark of royal favour while Mr. Pitt remained in power; and, when Mr. Pitt retired, Hastings was approaching his seven- tieth year. 30 Once, and only once, after his acquittal, he interfered in politics; and that interference was not much to his honour. In 1804 he exerted himself strenuously to prevent Mr. Addington, against whom Fox and Pitt had combined, from resigning the Treasury. It is 35 WAKREN HASTINGS 275 difficult to believe that a man, so able and energetic as Hastings, can have thought that, when Bonaparte was at Boulogne with a great army, the defence of our island could safel}^ be trusted to a ministiy which did 5 not contain a single person whom flattery could describe as a great statesman. It is also certain that, on the important question which had raised Mr. Addington to power, and on which he differed from both Fox and Pitt, Hastings, as might have been 10 expected, agreed with Fox and Pitt, and was decidedly opposed to Addington. Eeligious intolerance has never been the vice of the Indian service, and certainly was not the vice of Hastings. But Mr. Addington had treated him with marked favour. Fox had been a prin- 15 cipal manager of the impeachment. To Pitt it was owing that there had been an impeachment; and Hastings, we fear, was on this occasion guided by personal considerations, rather than by a regard to the public interest. 20 The last twenty-four years of his life were chiefly passed at Daylesford. He amused himself with em- bellishing his grounds, riding fine Arab horses, fatten- ing prize-cattle, and trying to rear Indian animals and vegetables in England. He sent for seeds of a very 25 fine custard-apple, from the garden of what had once been his own villa, among the green hedgerows of Allipore. He tried also to naturalise in Worcestershire the delicious leechee, almost the only fruit of Bengal which deserves to be regretted even amidst the plenty 30 of Covent Garden. The Mogul emperors, in the time of their greatness, had in vain attempted to introduce into Hindostan the goat of the table-land of Thibet, whose down supplies the looms of Cashmere with the materials of the finest shawls. Hastings tried, with no 35 better fortune, to rear a breed at Daylesford ; nor does 276 MACAULAY'S ESSAYS he seem to have succeeded better with the cattle of Bootan, whose tails are in high esteem as the best fans for brushing away the mosquitoes. Literature divided his attention with his conserva- tories and his menagerie. He had always loved books, 5 and they were now necessary to him. Though not a poet^ in any high sense of the word, he wrote neat and polished lines with great facilit}^, and was fond of ex- ercising this talent. Indeed, if we must speak out, he seems to have been more of a Trissotin than was to be 10 expected from the powers of his mind, and from the great part which he had played in life. We are assured in these Memoirs that the first thing which he did in the morning was to write a copy of verses. When the family and guests assembled, the poem made 15 its appearance as regularly as the eggs and rolls; and Mr. Gleig requires us to believe that, if from any accident Hastings came to the breakfast-table without one of liis cliarming performances in his hand, the omission was felt by all as a grievous disappointment. 20 Tastes differ widely. For ourselves, we must say that, however good the breakfasts at Da^desford may have been, — and we are assured that the tea was of the most aromatic flavour, and that neither tongue nor venison- pasty was wanting, — ^we should have thought the 25 reckoning high if we had been forced to earn our repast by listening every day to a new madrigal or sonnet composed by our host. We are glad, however, that Mr. Gleig has preserved this little feature of character, though we think it by no means a beauty. It is good 30 to be often reminded of the inconsistency of human nature, and to learn to look without wonder or disgust on the weaknesses which are found in the strongest minds. Dionysius in old times, Frederic in the last century, with capacity and vigour equal to the conduct 35 WARKEN HASTINGS 277 of the greatest affairs, united all the little vanities and affectations of provincial bine-stockings. These great examples may console the admirers of Hastings for the affliction of seeing him reduced to the level of the 5 Hayleys and Sewards. When Hastings had passed many years in retirement, and had long outlived the common age of men, he again became for a short time an object of general attention. In 1813 the charter of the East India Company was 10 renewed; and much discussion about Indian affairs took place in Parliament. It was determined to ex- amine witnesses at the bar of the Commons; and Hastings was ordered to attend. He had appeared at that bar once before. It was when he read his answer 15 to the charges which Burke had laid on the table. Since that time twentyrseven years had elapsed; public feeling had undergone a complete change ; the nation had now^ forgotten his faults, and remembered only his services. The reappearance, too, of a man who had 20 been among the most distinguished of a generation that had passed away, who now belonged to histor}-, and who seemed to have risen from the dead, could not but produce a solemn and pathetic effect. The Commons received him with acclamations, ordered a chair to be set 25 for him, and, when he retired, rose and uncovered. There were, indeed, a few who did not sympathise with the general feeling. One or two of the managers of the impeachment were present. They sate in the same seats which they had occupied when they had been 30 thanked for the services which they had rendered in Westminster HaU: for, by. the courtesy of the House,. a member who has been thanked in his place is con- sidered as having a right always to occupy that place. . These gentlemen were, not disposed to . admit 'that they 35 had employed . several of the best years of their lives 278 MACAULAT'S ESSAYS in persecuting an innocent man. They accordingly kept their seats^ and pulled their hats over their brows; but the exceptions only made the prevailing enthusiasm more remarkable. The Lords received the old man with similar tokens of respect. The University of 5 Oxford conferred on him the degree of Doctor of Laws; and, in the Sheldonian Theatre, the under- graduates welcomed him with tumultuous cheering. These marks of public esteem were soon followed by marks of royal favour. Hastings was sworn of the lo Privy Council, and was admitted to a long private audience of the Prince Eegent, who treated him very graciously. When the Emperior of Russia and the King of Prussia visited England, Hastings appeared in their train both at Oxford and in the Guildhall of Lon- 15 don, and, though surrounded by a crowd of princes and great warriors, was everywliere received with marks of respect and admiration. He was presented by the Prince Regent both to Alexander and to Frederic Will- iam ; and his Royal Highness went so far as to declare 20 in public that honours far higher than a seat in the Privy Council were due, and would soon be paid, to the man who saved the British dominions in Asia. Hastings now confidently expected a peerage; but, from some unexplained cause, he was again 25 disappointed. He lived about four years longer, in the enjoyment of good spirits, of faculties not impaired to any painful or degrading extent, and of health such as is rarely enjoyed by those who attain such an age. At length, 30 on the twenty-second of August, 1818, in the eighty- sixth year of his age, he met death with the same tranquil and decorous fortitude which he had opposed to all the trials of his various and eventfullife. With all his faults. — and they were neither few nor 35 SI WAKEEN HASTINGS 279 mall, — only one cemeter}^ was worthy to contain his remains. In that temple of silence and reconciliation where the enmities of twenty generations lie buried, in the Great Abbey, which has during may ages afforded •"i a quiet resting-place to those whose minds and bodies have been shattered by the contentions of the Great Hall, the dust of the illustrious accused should have mingled with the dust of the illustrious accusers. This was not to be. Yet the place of interment was not ill 10 chosen. Behind the chancel of the parish church of Daylesford, in earth which already held the bones of many chiefs of the house of Hastings, was laid the coffin of the greatest man who has ever borne that ancient and widely extended name. On that very spot 15 probably, four-score years before, the little Warren, meanly clad and scantily fed, had played with the children of ploughmen. Even then his young mind had revolved plans which might be called romantic. Yet, however romantic, it is not likely that they had 20 been so strange as the truth. Not only had the poor orphan retrieved the fallen fortunes of his line — not only had he repurchased the old lands, and rebuilt the old dwelling — he had preserved and extended an em- pire. He had founded a polity. He had administered 25 government and war with more than the capacity of Eichelieu. He had patronised learning with the judicious liberality of Cosmo. He had been attacked by the most formidable combination of enemies that ever sought the destruction of a single victim; and 30 over that combination, after a struggle of ten years, he had triumphed. He had at length gone down to his grave in the fulness of age, in peace, after so many troubles, in honour, after so much obloquy. Those who look on his character with'out favour or 35 malevolence will pronounce that, in the two great ek^ 280 MACAULAY 'S ESSAYS ments of all social virtue, in respect for the rights of others, and in sympathy for the sufferings of others, he was deficient. His principles were somewhat lax. His heart was somewhat hard. But though we cannot with truth describe him either as a righteous or as a 5 merciful ruler, we cannot regard without admiration the amplitude and fertility of his intellect, his rare talents for command, for administration, and for con- troversy, his dauntless courage, his honourable poverty, his fervent zeal for the interests of the State, his noble 10 equanimity, tried by both extremes of fortune, and never disturbed bv either. NOTES Although these notes are sometimes critical as well as explanatory, they include few questions in regard to structure and style. It is considered that the Introduction affords a sufficient starting-point for studies in that direction. Explanations of names and unusual words may be sought in the Glossary. It should be noted that Macaulay employs the older spelling of Indian names. The spelling used by the Indian Government for the Imperial Gazetteer of India is the one to-day most frequently followed, so that Macaulay's forms, Hindoo, Nabob, Carnatic, Meer Jaffier, Meer Cossim, Omichund, Nuncomar, etc., now often appear as Hindu, Nawab, Karnatik, Mir Jafar, Mir Kasim, Aminchand, Nandkumar, etc. LORD CLIVE The essays on Clive and Warren Hastings appeared in the Edinburgh Review in 1840 and 1841 respectively, and are constructed in Macaulay's usual manner, touching very lightly the books they are supposed to review and then striking boldly out into the large subject opened up by the titles. They are both admirable examples of that peculiar type of historical essay wliich Macaulay cultivated — little biographies which weave about the central character so much of the public life, the wars and statecraft, of the time in which that character lived, that they become essentially historical monographs ; indeed the ten or a dozen essays written by him upon characters prominent in English public affairs would, strung together, constitute a pretty complete history of England from the time of Burleigh to the time of Hastings. Among these, the two essaj's here printed stand, with the essays on Pitt, in the very first rank, and they are perhaps the most popular of all. This is due in part to the semi-romantic nature of the material and the author's personal famil- iarity -with it (he had liimself held an official position in India), in part to the gorgeous yet well matured style which he brought to the treatment, and in some measure also, no doubt, to the fact that the characters dealt with were such as Macaulay was temperamentally best fitted to gauge. "The great ci\'ic and military qualities," says J. Cotter Morison, "resolute courage, promptitude, self-command, and firmness of purpose, he could thoroughly understand and warmly admire. His style is always animated by a warmer glow and a deeper note when he celebrates high deeds of valor or fortitude either in the council or the field. There was an heroic fiber in him, which' the peaceful times in which he lived, and the peaceful occupations in which he passed his days, never adequately revealed." Page 39: Line 5. Every schoolboy knows. These three words constitute one of the very few phrases of M9,caulay's that have passed into current 281 282 NOTES quotation. They are commonly quoted in a humorous way, with some reflection on Macaulay's airy manner. 39: 11. A Hindoo or a Mussulman. The major portion of the population of India are Hindus in religion ; they are divided into various castes, Brahman, Rajput, etc. About one-fourth are Mussulmans, or Mohammedans. A very small percentage are Buddhists. 39: 17. Horse-soldier. The horse, which later proved so useful to the natives of America, from the North American tfibes to the Patagonians, was introduced by the Spaniards. 41: 10. Love of biographers. One of Macaulay's frequent references to what he calls the hies Boswelliana, or biographer's disease, namely, exces- sive admiration for his subject. Here the phrasing is given a Scriptural turn. See 2 Sam. i. 23. 41: 30. Avocations. -A word often misused, but here used with entire accuracy. 43: 34. Writership. "The duties devolving on a writer were the duties of a clerk; to keep accounts; to take stock; to make advances; to ship cargoes; to see that no infringement of the company's monopoly should occur." — Colonel G. B. Malleson: Lord Clirc. 43: 33. Prophet's gourd. Jonah iv. • 44: 12. Three months. The use of steam and the opening of the Suez Canal (1869) have reduced the voyage to three weeks. 48: 10. Duel. See Browning's poem, Clive. 51: 27. Mountain of Light. This famous diamond is better known by its untranslated name, Koh-i-nur. As a last vicissitude it passed into the possession of the British Crown, having been given to Queen Victoria by the East India Companj^ in 1850. 53: 9. Mahrattas. Note how rhetorical emphasis is secured for this word. The passage that follows is remarkable for concreteness and pictorial vividness — an excellent example of Macaulay's "graphic" style. 53: 30. Factors trembled for their magazines. In American English this would be something like "commission merchants trembled for their warehouses and stores." The great commercial establishments or trading- posts of the British in India were called "factories," and those in charge were the "factors." 56: 17. Eloquence of Burke. See Burke's speech on the Nabob of Areot's debts, Feb. 28, 1785. 57: 29. He loved to display. The Oriental loves display, and those who can make the greatest display are held by him in the highest reverence. Dupleix's action, therefore, as has more than once been pointed out, may have been rather the result of policy than of the vainglory which Macaulay i is disposed to attribute to him. NOTES 283 59: 21. Throxigh thunder, lightning, and rain. No doubt this is an inten- tional echo of a very familiar Shakespearian passage. Macaulay's biblical phrases — such as "which is, being interpreted," and the like — are also to be noted. 61: 5. The Old Guard. "The guard dies, but never surrenders," is a famous but fictitious saying, ascribed to Cambronne, commander of the Imperial Guard at Waterloo. 70: 27. Reform Act. Macaulay alludes to this with some pride, as he had himself played a conspicuous part in carrying it through. It was essentially an act to equalize representation, readjusting the boroughs in conformity with changes in population and importance. 77: 7. Story which Ugolino told. The comparison is well chosen, as Uterature scarcely contains a more terrible story than this told by Dante in the thirtj^-third canto of the Inferno. Count Ugolino of Pisa, with his two sons and two nephews, had been starved to death in a tower by Arch- bishop Ruggieri. Dante represents him as taking vengeance in Hell by constantly gnawing the Archbishop's skull, and it is- during a moment's intermission of that horrible feast that he tells his tale: "They were awake now, and the hour drew nigh At which our food used to be brought to us. And through his dream was each one apprehensive; And I heard locking up the under door Of the horrible tower; whereat without a word I gazed into the faces of my sons. I wept not, I within so turned to stone; They wept; and darling little Anselm mine Said: 'Thou dost gaze so, father, what doth ail thee?' " — Longfellow's translation. Macaulay's description of the Black Hole horror is highly praised by Mr. Courthope Bowen, the historian, and it is an admirable example of literary art, though it falls far short of Dante in the qualities of human pity and tenderness, as also in the power of the things left unsaid. 85: 18. His advice was taken. Note the effect of rapidity from the shortening of both sentences and paragraphs. 86: 34. Clive declared his concurrence. In fact Clive spoke first, and spoke against fighting. Several reasons have been given for his later change of mind, one attributing it to a dream, another to a letter from Meer Jaffier. 93: 7. Clive was altogether in the lorong. The following ia the conclusion ' of Colonel G. B. Malleson's book on Lord Chve in the Rulers of India Series, and may assist in "directing the judgment of readers:" "But, says the moralist, he committed faults, and at once the false treaty made with Aminchand [Omichund] is thrown into the face of the historian. Yes, he did do it; and not only that, he stated in his evidence 284 NOTES before the House of Commons that if he were again under the same cir- cumstances he would do it again. None of his detractors had had the oppor- tunity of judging of the terrible issues which the threatened treachery of Aminchand had opened to his vision. Upon the decision of Clive rested the lives of thousands. To save those lives there appeared to him but one sure method available, and that was to deceive the deceiver. I think his decision was a wrong one, but it should always be remembered tliat as Clive stated before the Committee, he had no interested motive in doing what he did do; he did it with the design of disappointing a rapacious man and of preventing the consequences of his treachery. He was in a posi- tion of terrible responsibility, and he acted to save others. Let the stern moralist stand in the same position as that in which Clive stood, and it is just possible he might think as Clive thought.' At all events, this one fault, for fault it was, cannot or ought not to be set up as a counterweight against services which have given this island the highest position amongst all the nations of the earth. The House of Commons, after a long debate, condoned it. Might not Posterity, the Posterity which has profited by that very fault, be content to follow the lead of the House of Commons? With all his faults, Clive was 'one of the men who did the most for the great- ness of England.' That fact is before us every da3^ His one fault hastened his death, from the handle it gave to the envious and revengeful, and took from him the chance of gaining fresh laurels in America. May not the ever-living fact of his services induce us to overlook, to blot out from the memory, that one mistake, which he so bitterly expiated in his lifetime?" 92: 9. That ho7iesty is the best policy. Macaulay escapes here into such phrases as "generally correct," and fails to be either positive or clear. Honesty may or may not be the best policy on the plane of policy, but in itself it does not belong to that plane, and the absolute "rightness" of it is not to be questioned. 102: 21, Sat down before. This is a ^ery literal translation of the word besiege. 105: 9. Demagogue Wilkes. John Wilkes was elected a member of Parliament for Middlesex three times before he was allowed to take his seat, the charge against him being that of pubUshing immoral and seditious works. For the particulars of Grenville's "impolitic persecution" of him, see Macaulay 's essay on the Earl of Chatham. 109: 6. A massacre. The massacre of Patna, referred to in para- graph 1.- Some of the English had fallen into Meer Cossim's hands as prisoners. Then, "on the 5th of October, 1763, nearly two hundred men, women, and children, were shot down in Sumru's presence by two com- panies of his sepoys." "Sumru" was the hired butcher, a treacherous English adventurer by the name of Walter Reinhardt. "Many of the prisoners fought for their lives \vith brickbats, bottles, anything that came to hand. The very executioners begged that weapons should be furnished to their victims, since the butchering of unarmed men was no fit work -for a,nned soldiers." — Captain L, J. Trotter; Warren Hastings. NOTES 286 109: 28. The little finger. '*My little finger shall be thicker than my father's loins." I Kings xii. 10. 110: 19. Mussulman historian. Seid Gholam Hosein Khan, whose history was translated by a Frenchman named Raymond. 115: 29. Proconsuls, etc. Note that one effect of this allusion, perhaps unintended, is to draw a comparison between the British Empire and ancient Rome. 119: 4. Persian characters. Hindustani is written in Persian characters. 119: 12. Chilperics and Childerics. This comparison with the degenerate Frankish kings of the seventh and eighth centuries is a favorite one with Macaulay. In his essay on the Earl of Chatham he writes: "In his (Gren- ville's) view the prime minister, possessed of the confidence of the House of Commons, ought to be Mayor of the Palace. The King was a mere Childeric or Chilperic, who might well think himself lucky in being per- mitted to enjoy such handsome apartments at Saint James's, and so fine a park at Windsor." See also the essay on Warren Hastings, p. 154, bottom. 121: 8. His second retiirn from Bengal. The following, from a letter of Horace Walpole's, dated July 20, 1767, is an interesting bit of contem- porary gossip: "Lord Clive is arrived, has brought a million for him- self, two diamond drops worth twelve thousand pounds for the queen, a scimitar, dagger, and other matters, covered with brilliants, for the King, and worth twenty-four thousand more. These baubles are presents from the deposed and imprisoned Mogul, whose poverty can still afford to give such bribes. Lord Clive refused some overplus, and gave it to some widows of officers: it amounted to ninety thousand pounds. He has reduced the appointments of the Governor of Bengal to thirty-two thousand pounds a year; and what is better, has left such a chain of forts and distribution of troops as will entirely secure possession of the country — till we lose it." 131: 34. It was natural that. This repetition of introductory words is among the mannerisms of Macaulay 's style. See Introduction, 15. 122: 29. Fresh eggs. See Introduction, 18. 134: 11. Coivper, in that lofty expostulation. In the poem beginning "Why weeps the Muse for England?" "Hast thou, though suckled at fair freedom's breast, Exported slavery to the conquered East? Pulled down the tyrants India served with dread, • And raised thyself, a greater, in their stead? Gone thither armed and hungry, returned full. Fed from the richest veins of the Mogul, A despot big with power obtained by wealth. And that obtained by rapine and by stealth? With Asiatic %aces stored thv mind. But left their virtues and thine own behind; And, ha\ing trucked thy soul, brought home the fee, To tempt the poor to sell himself to thee?" (Lines 364-375). 286 NOTES 137: 15. All men of common humanity. The satire here upon the preceding sentence should not be overlooked. 139: 4. The Middlesex election. This is another allusion to Wilkes and the long struggle to keep him out of the House of Commons. See note on 105: 9. 139: 33. Spurs chopped off. Spurs were the badge of knighthood. 133: 28. Pass such a scrutimj. Robert Bruce murdered his rival. Of Maurice, Prince of Orange, son of Wilham the Silent, Macaulay says in his History that he raised himself almost to kingly power "by some treacherous and cruel actions." The character of Wilham the Silent is not so easily assailed. William III of England is charged with at least a breach of duty in faihng to punisli the author of the massacre of Glencoe (Macaulay's History of England, Chap. 21). James Stuart, Earl of Murray, persisted in cruel charges against his half-sister, Mary Queen of Scots. The Florentine Cosmo de' Medici, Henry of Navarre, and Peter the Great, all bore private characters that were far from stainless. 133: 5. Henry the Seventh's Chapel. This is the most magnificent portion of Westminster Abbey and a royal burial-place. The stalls apper- tain to the Knights of the Bath, and their banners are suspended above. 133: 7. Kissed hands. Kissing the sovereign's hands is a part of the ceremony of entering upon certain high offices. 134: 14. Burgoyne's syllogism. A syllogism, in formal logic, consists of a major premise, or general truth; a minor premise, or particular instance; and a conclusion relating the two. A simple example would be: "All wood is inflammable; mahogany is wood; therefore, mahogany is inflammable." It is easy to construct the syllogism in Clive's case. To "put the previous question" is, in parliamentary practice, to move that the original question "be now put," a procedure which has the effect of reopening debate and often preventing a vote. 135: 22. We have no doubt that Voltaire. Macaulay digresses here, with shght excuse, to pronounce judgment upon the great French sceptic and philosopher of Ferney, and lays himself likewise open to the charge of being one who "sneers." 137: 31. Closes with the fall of Ghizni. Ghizni, or Ghuzni, in Afghan- istan, was captured in 1839, only six months before this essay was written. By the word "closes" Macaulay probably meant only that it was the last triumph up to date. 138: 1. At a still earlier age. Alexander the Great won the battle of Granicus, the first of his three great victories over the Persians, at the age of twenty-two; Prince de Conde defeated the Spaniards at Rocroi at the same age; Charles XII. of Sweden defeated the Russians at Narva at eighteen. 138: 21. Tarpeian Jove. Roman triumphal processions ended with a sacrifice at the Temple of Jupiter on the Tarpeian, or Capitoline, Hill. NOTES , 287 139: 25. The statue of Lord William Bentinck. This statue, erected in Calcutta, bears an inscription from the pen of Macaulay. Macaulay has made bold use, in these concluding paragraphs, of the great names and deeds of history, and he works up to a climax which pays a fine tribute to a man whose life and death were fresh in the memory of his readers and who had been in India one of his own warmest personal friends. WARREN HASTINGS The reader of Macaulay's essay on Hastings needs a word of caution.' History may not be quite the tissue of lies that Froude and others have declared it to be, but the best of histories are liable to prejudice, marred by unintentional and often unavoidable error, and constantly subject to revision in the light of fresh discoveries and changing standards. The judgments in the present essay must by no means be considered as final, and all who are interested in the facts in the case should read further, as, for example, in Hastings and the Rohilla War hj Sir John Strachey, in the Story of Nuncomar and the Impeachment of Sir Elijah Impey by Sir Jam^es Fitzjames Stephen (1885), in Sir Alfred Lyall's Warren Hastings, and in A Vindication of Warren Hastings by G, W. Hastings (1909). The notes that follow record some corrections of fact and differences of opinion. The essay is here printed in the revised form in which Macaulay left it. In the original form there were two introductory paragraphs and other passages of severe censure of the Reverend Mr. Gleig and his "three big bad volumes." Page 140: Line 10. Stood up to receive him. See fifth paragraph from the end. 141: 17. Danish sea-king. Hasting. See Green's Short History of the English People, p. 53. 141: 21. Splendor of the line. " One conspicuous member of the family was that Lord Hastings, whose loyal services to the House of York were requited by Richard III. with a violent death. On his successor, Henry VII. bestowed the Earldom of Huntingdon, a title which ere long fell dormant until, in 1819, the right to bear it was confirmed to Francis Hastings, as hneal descendant of the second Earl, From another branch of the same stock had sprung the Earls of Pembroke, one of whom followed the banner of the Black Prince in the war between Peter the Cruel and his brother Henry of Castile." — Capt. L. J, Trotter: Warren. Hastings, in the "Rulers of India Series." For the fate of Lord Hastings as a "theme of poets," see Shakespeare's Richard III., Act III., Sc. ii., iii. 142: 28. Born . . . 1732. It may be worth remembering that Warren Hastings was an exact contemporary of George Washington. 144: 18. His (Cowper's) spirit had . . . been . . . tried. Observe how this prepares for the judgment upon Hastings, and intimates the nature of the story to follow. It is therefore no digression. 288 NOTES 144: 32. Safely venture to guess. "Macaulay*s notion that young Hastings 'hired Irapey with a ball or a tart' to fag for him, is egregiously absurd." — L. J. Trotter. Compare Introduction, 13, 145: 19. Hexameters and pentameters. Writing Greek and Latin verses was a conspicuous part of the old English school curriculum. Observe how Macaulay here (and elsewhere) uses short, independent sentences where most writers would employ subordinate clauses: "Thinking the years, etc., and having it in his power, etc," See Introduction, 10. 145: 23. Died of a liver complaint. This is a very slight variation upon what was said about Ciive, and well illustrates the mechanical way in which the author's mind works, making him so pre-eminently a journalist. See Introduction, 30. 148: 16. The strength of civilization without its mercy. Compare this with Clive, 109:33-35, and see preceding note. 149: 8. Rotten boroughs in Cornwall. See Clive, 70:27, and note. 149: 11. Little is known. "As a matter of fact, the book which Macau- lay was professing to review describes at length the honorable part consis- tently taken by Hastings in opposition to the great majority of the council. Sometimes in conjunction only with Vansittart, sometimes absolutely alone, he protested unceasingly against the policy and practices of his colleagues." — J. S. Cotton, in the Encyc. Brit. In the light of this statement, the favorite phrase with which Macaulay begins the next paragraph, "The truth is," is seen to be used altogether too readily. See Introduction, 16. 151: 13. The old philosopher wrote to him. Doctor Johnson's admiring biographer, James Boswell, was much impressed by this fact, for he writes: "I introduce him [Johnson] with peculiar propriety as the correspondent of Warren Hastings! a man whose regard reflects dignity even upon John- son; a man who, by those who are fortunate enough to know him in private life, is admired for his literature and taste, and beloved for the candor, modera- tion, and mildness of his character." The three letters which Johnson wrote were obtained from Hastings and' may be read in Boswell 's Life of Johnson, under the year 1781. In one of the letters, dated 1774, is the following sentence: "I shall hope, that he who once intended to increase the learning of his country by the introduction of the Persian language, will examine nicely the traditions and histories of the East; that he will survey the wonders of its ancient edifices, and trace the vestiges of its ruined cities ; and that, at his return, we shall know the arts and opinions of a race of men from whom very little has been hitherto derived." 151: 33. Picking up . . . pagodas. See Glossary under This is of course only a variation of our slang, "to pick up dollars," 154: 25. Assumed the style. I. e., assumed the name. 154: 32. In the same relation. See CZt?;e, 118:22; 119:10. NOTES 289 157: 14. What the Italian is to the Englishman. An interesting step- ladder climax. See Introduction, 13. 157: 33. The old Greek song. The 24th Ode of Anacreon, thus para- phrased by Moore: To all that breathe the airs of heaven, Some boon of strength has Nature given. When the majestic bull was born, She fenced his brow with wreathed horn. She armed the courser's foot of air. And winged with speed the panting hare. She gave the lion fangs of terror. And, on the ocean's crystal mirror. Taught the unnumbered scaly throng To trace their liquid path along; While for the umbrage of the grove. She plumed the warbling world of love. To man she gave the flame refined. The spark of heaven — a thinking mind! And had she no surpassing treasure For thee, O woman, child of pleasure? She gave thee beauty — shaft of eyes, That every shaft of war outflies! She gave thee beauty — flush of fire That bids the flames of war retire! Woman! be fair, we must adore thee; Smile, and a world is weak before thee ! 161: 14. On that memorable day. In the year 1760, immediately after Clive quitted Calcutta, the Mogul of Delhi attempted an invasion of Bengal. The invasion was repulsed by a band of English troops and sepoys under Majors Calliaud and Knox. 165: 3. The allowance . . . was reduced at a stroke. This had been "expressly enjoined by the court of directors in a despatch dated six months before he took up office." — J. S. Cotton. 166: 26. That memorable campaign. See note on Clive, 137:31. The cross of Saint George is the Greek cross, used on the British flag; Saint George is England's patron saint. 168: 17. Hastings was in need of funds. Captain Trotter writes: "Fear of the Marathas [Mahrattas] was another and yet more powerful motive for a course of action which has since been often denounced, by none more eloquently than Macaulay himself, as a wanton aggression upon the innocent rulers of a well-governed and prosperous land. . . . Hastings himself avowedly based his Rohilla pohcy on high pohtical grounds. He had long considered the power of the Rohillas as dangerous to that of the Wazir n^izier], the only useful ally of the Company. A jealous dread of this 290 NOTES powerful neighbor would drive the Rohillas at any moment to join the Marathas in warring on the Wazir. The consequent danger to Oudh and Bengal could be averted only by the conquest of Rohilkhand." Again: "Instead of thriving in almost Arcadian bhss, the people of Rohilkhand were a rack-rented peasantry, living amid scenes of lawless strife, doomed to suffer alike from the exactions of their own masters and from the merciless raids of ubiquitous Marathas." As to this last argument, it may be remarked that it is the old plea for civilized conquest of primitive peoples. 171: 15. To take order. This is a nearly obsolete phrase, meaning " to take proper care." 176: 11. The Middlesex election. See Clive, 129:4, and note. 177: 6. Twenty-one guns. The royal salute. 182: 20. Idiots mid biographers excepted. See note on Clive, 41:10. This is a severe reflection upon the Reverend Mr. Gleig. 183: 29. True hill. An endorsement of an indictment by a grand jury. 187: 26. This memorable execution is to be attributed to Hastings. This judgment does not by any means stand unchallenged Capt. L. J. Trotter discusses the matter as follows: "A detailed account of the execution, written at the time by Macrabie, the Sheriff of Calcutta, a brother-in-law and a faithful iollower of Phihp Francis, was afterward to furnish Burke and Elliot with a theme for much furious invective, and to become the groundwork for some splendid passages in Macaulay's well-known essay. Burke was never weary of proclaiming that Hastings had murdered Nanda-Kumar [Nuncomar] by the hands of Sir Elijah Impey. Macaulay, with far less excuse for his evil-speaking, brands Impey with the foul fame of Jeffreys, and declares that none but idiots and biographers can doubt that Hastings was 'the real mover in the business,' even while he doubts whether Nanda-Kumar's death can justly be reckoned among Hastings' crimes. A recent writer, Mr. Beveridge, tries in vain to show that the Governor-General did conspire with Impey to murder his ancient foe. "It is true that Hastings had been driven into a corner, and it is certain that some men in his position would not have scrupled to save themselves from utter ruin by foul means. But if past character counts for anything, Warren Hastings was not the man to screen himself from any show of com- plicity in one crime by the deliberate commission of another. Full weight at least is due to his solemn declaration, made on oath before the judges, that he had never, directly or indirectly, countenanced or forwarded the prosecu- tion, for forgery against Nanda-Kumar. Nobody in Calcutta, not even in Hastings* Council, seems to have directly impugned the justice of the verdict, or to have plainly hinted that the Governor-General took any part in the prosecution; for Francis' letter of August 7, to Admiral Hughes, deals only in cunning innuendoes which the reader may interpret as he will. "Biographers may sometimes be foolish; but so are critics who jump to rash conclusions from premises however specious. Because Nanda-Kumar's NOTES 291 death may have removed a viper out of Hastings' path, post hoc need not therefore be translated propter hoc. There is no vaUd evidence to support this view. Sir James Stephen, who is neitlier an idiot nor a biographer, but a high, judicial authority on the law of evidence and the criminal law, has gone more deeply, carefully, and impartially, than any other writer, past or present, into all the documents bearing on the trial of Nanda-Kumar, and has recorded judgment alike in favor of Impey and the Governor-General. The Raja, he thinks, was fairly tried and justly condemned from the judges' point of view, while Impey in particular treated him on the whole with marked leniency. As for Hastings' share in the business. Sir J. Stephen finds that it amounted! to none at all. There is no evidence whatever to show that he had any hand in the prosecution, or that he did anything to ensure the prisoner's fate." 188: 34. Tour to the Hebrides. Both Johnson and Boswell have left written records of this tour. Johnson's is called A Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland (1775). In regard to Jones's Persian Grammar, see 151:13 and note, and 233:18. 190: 2. So far eastward. The government buildings and the residences of the aristocracy are in the western part of London, while business is central- ized more in the eastern part. In the extreme east are the laboring classes, many of whom never visit the western portion, and vice versa. 196: 2. Aurungabad and Bejapoor. Macaulay makes this paragraph ring with proper names apparently through mere delight in their resonant sound, as Milton sometimes does in Paradise Lost. 304: 7. And the Chief Justice was rich, quiet, and infamous. "He never consented to draw the additional salary offered to him." — J. S. Cotton, in Encyc. Brit. "The Chief Justice, in all sincerity, accepted the olive-branch thus oppor- tunely held out by his old friend. This arrangement, which brought peace and order at a critical moment to Bengal, was denounced by Hastings' and fmpey's enemies as a fresh crime, and was afterward described by Macaulay as the giving and taking of a bribe. Bengal was saved, he says, and the Chief Justice became 'rich, quiet, and infamous.' But this sort of language wanders very far from the rulings of common justice and common sense. Bengal was saved, indeed, and the Chief Justice ultimately drew a fair salary in return for useful and arduous work in an office for which he was peculiarly fitted. But the infamy of the matter is the mere child of rhetorical extrava- gance Inspired by party traditions. There was no giving or taking of bribes. Hastings wisely pitched upon the best man he knew for the task of regulating the whole machinery of the Provincial Courts. . . . The right to further salary for a separate office had not been questioned in the case of Clavering. . . . There is no room for doubt that the new arrangement was a well-timed stroke of pohcy on Hastings' part. It was, indeed, as Sir James Stephen allows, 'the only practicable way out of the unhappy quarrel into which the Court and the Council had been drawn by rash and ignorant English legisla- tion.' " — L. J. Trotter, 292 NOTES 314: 5. Sometimes the Nabob of Bengal is a shadow. Whose statement or view is this? 314: 26. Where an ambiguous question arises. There is here a kind of double syllogism. See note on Clive, 134:9. 318: 27. It is the fashion of the natives. The very abruptness of this apparent digression gives assurance that it is not a real one. 336: 1. Not forget to do justice. Is this irony, or sarcasm? 333: 3. A far more virtuous ruler. Lord William Bentinck. See the conclusion of the essay on Lord Clive. 333: 25. The spirit of the Portuguese government. "Above all things the Portuguese were knights errant and crusaders, who looked on every pagan as an enemy at once of Portugal and of Christ. It is impossible for any one who has not read the contemporary narratives of their discoveries and conquests to conceive the grossness of the superstition and the cruelty with which the whole history of their exploration and subjugation of the Indies is stained." — Dr. Birdwood. 338: 5. Till the low coast of Bengal was fading from the view. One famiUar with the graphic power which Macaulay brings to everything he writes might read these essays almost without suspecting that he had ever been in India. Yet it Is well to remind ourselves that his vivid descrip- tions of Indian scenes and his acute comments upon Oriental character were the result of his own personal observation. It is manifest that this particular sentence was written from a picture still sharp in his memory. As the scene had looked to him only three years before, so must it have looked to Hastings more than fifty years before. 338: 11. Horace's Otium Divos rogat. Horace's Odes, II. 16. The tenor of the ode is as follows: "For rest the sailor and the savage warrior pray alike, but wealth cannot buy it. Riches and power cannot remove care from the dwelhng. The humble alone are free. Why do we aim at so much happiness in this short life, and run to foreign lands? We cannot ' fly from ourselves nor from care," etc. 339: 28, As Hannibal . . at Waterloo, etc. The point of these comparisons lies of course in the diflferent ages in which the actors lived, yet they are carefully made in another respect: Hannibal, the Cartha- ginian general, fought on land as did Wellington, while Themistocles, the hero of Salamis, fought, like Nelson, on sea. 341: 4, The trunkmakers and the pastry-cooks. That is, the docu- ments, unsold and unread, went to line trunks and pans. 343: 29. From the ministry. This was the ministry of William Pitt the second, who was made Prime Minister in 1783 in his twenty-fifth year. He had great difficulty in forming a ministry. He was the only member of the House of Commons in his own Cabinet, but the Tories rallied to his NOTES 293 side, the industrial classes supported him, and he speedily rose to a posi- tion of power. Among the Opposition were the great Whig leaders, Fox and Burke. 245: 29. By any public ynan. I.e., by any other public man, for Burke had never been in India. 245: 32. So much sensibility. "Macaulay, in a famous passage of dazzling lustre and fine historic color, describes Burke's holy rage against the misdeeds of Hastings as due to his sensibility. But sensibility to what? Not merely to those common impressions of human suffering which kindle the flame of ordinary philanthropy, always attractive, often so beneficent, but often feo capricious and so laden with secret detriment. This was no part of Burke's type. It was reverence rather than sensibility, a noble and philosopliic conservatism rather than philanthropy, w^hich raised the storm in Burke's breast against the rapacity of English adventurers in India, [and the imperial crimes of Hastings." — John Morley: Edmund Burke. 246: 14. A real country and a real people. See note on 238:5. Sir George Otto Trevelyan, Macaulay's nephew and biographer, praises the passage that follows for its force and fidelity. 246: 25. The yellow streaks of sect. A badge of sect, worn in the middle of the forehead. 251: 13. The Chancellor of the Exchequer. William Pitt. The Keeper of the Great Seal is the Lord High Chancellor, in this case Lord Thurlow. 260: 1. Historian of the Roman Empire. Edward Gibbon. 260: 16. Her to whom the heir of the throne had plighted his faith. The Prince of Wales, afterward George the Fourth, was secretly married to Mrs. Maria Anne Fitzherbert in 1785. 260: 18. The beautiful mother of a beautiful race. Elizabeth Ann Sheridan, first wife of Richard Brinsley Sheridan, and grandmother of "the three beauties," Lady Dufferin, the Hon. Mrs. Norton, and the Duchess of Somerset. As* Miss Linley she was celebrated for her beauty and her singing in oratorios, and she sat to Reynolds for St. Cecilia and the Virgin. 261: 11. The great Proconsul. See Clive, 115:29. 261: 30. A bag and sword. The bag was a pouch to hold the back hair of a wig. 262: 35. Charles, Earl Grey. Note here again the writer's studied method of suspending the name in a personal tribute for emphasis. Earl Grey was long a prominent Whig; he introduced the Reform Bill, which Macaulay helped to carry in 1832, and was naturally one of Macaulay's most admired friends. He was still living when this was written. 266: 11. Debates on the Regency. During the temporary madness of George III., the Prince of Wales advanced the claim of a right to the Regency. 294 NOTES 373: 4. Malignant . . baboon. Macaulay manifestly held this lam- pooner in great contempt. In his essay on Madame D'Arblay he speaks of him as "the polecat Williams." See Introduction, 18. 374: 21. A red riband. This refers to the badge of the Knights of the Bath. See Standard Dictionary plate of "Decorations," No. 19. By "a coronet" is meant a peerage. After reading this essay, in justice to Hastings the following words, by Captain Trotter, ought to be read: "Few statesmen indeed have paid so heavily for the sins of other men, or have suffered such cruel and prolonged injustice from the passions and prejudices, both personal and political, of their own age. In view of the evils wrought even now by party rancor and political prejudice, it is easy to understand how Hastings' preeminent services to his country came to be rewarded, in his own words, 'with confiscation, disgrace, and a life of impeachment.* And much of the evil wrought by the malignity of Francis and the eloquence of Burke and Sheridan still lives in the 'splendid romance' woven by Macaulay out of documents which a calmer and more careful workman would have conned with very different eyes." And perhaps the following, by J. S. Cotton, should be read in justice to Macaulay: "The bibliography dealing with Warren Hastings is not large. The histories of Mill and Thornton both adopt a standpoint that is on the whole adverse. The Memoirs, by Gleig, are too tedious to be read at the present day. The review of those Memoirs by Macaulay, despite its exuberance of color, its Whig partiality, and its proved inaccuracies, will not easily be superseded as the one standard authority." GLOSSARY Addington, Henry. Speaker of the House of Commons who succeeded Pitt in the ministry in 1801; "a weak and narrow-minded man, as bigoted as the king himself." (J. R. Green.) 274:34. alguazil (Spanish). A constable. 202:5. Anti'ochus. King of Syria, subdued by Pompey the Great, b. c. 65. 138:22. Archangel. The northernmost district of Russia. 152:1. Atahualpa. The Inca ruler of Peru, executed by Pizarro. See Pres- cott's Conquest of Peru, III. 7. 39:6. Augustulus, The last Roman emperor of the West, compelled by Odoacer to abdicate. 154:33. Aurungzebe. Great Mogul, or Em- peror of Hindustan, died 1707. 50:4. 195:3. Baber. See Tamerlane. 49:3. Bacon, Francis. English philosopher and statesman, convicted in 1621 of bribe-taking. 258:34. Baillie, John. Captain in India dur- ing the Mahratta war. 208:22. banditti (Italian). Robbers. A plural word, apparently used by Macaulay in a collective sense. 201:29. bang, or bhang. Dried leaves of Indian hemp, used as an intoxicant; hashish. 51:17. Harwell, Richard. Member of the Bengal Council who sided with Hastings. 172:35. Bath, Knights of the. An order deriv- ing its name from the ancient cere- mony of bathing as a part of the inauguration of knights. 133:4. 251:7. Beaconsfield. Burke's estate, of about 600 acres, in Buckinghamshire, 24 miles from London. 246:31. Bedloe, William. See Popish Plot. 179:10. Begum. Princess. 162:7. 222:11. Bentinck, Lord William. First gov- ernor-general of India, 1833; d. 1839. 139:26. Bernier, Francois. French traveler in the Orient, court-physician to Aurungzebe. 51 :24. Black Town of Calcutta. The native quarter of Calcutta. 217:35. Bonaparte, Prince Louis , afterward Na- poleon III. He organized an unsuc- cessfulrevolution among the French soldiers in 1836 and was captured and imprisoned in 1840. 212:35. Bourbon, House of. A royal family which long reigned in France, Spain, and Naples, and which still reigns in Spain. 46:28. Bourne, Vincent (1695-1747). A writer of Latin verses, remembered as the teacher of Cowper. 144:1. Brooks's. A London clubhouse where the Whig leaders were accustomed to meet. 243:12. Burke, Edmund. Irish statesman, M. P.; supporter of Rockingham; advocate of peace with America ; ac- quiesced in the Coalition (which see) ; drafted the East India Bill, 1783; opened the case for the im- peachment of Hastings, 1788. 174:22. Buxar. In Bengal; scene of an Eng- lish victory by Sir Hector Munro, 1764. 39:9. 295 296 GLOSSARY byzant. A medieval coin of the Byzantine empire. 94:33. Byzantium. A Greek city, merged with Constantinople, the capitol of the Eastern Empire. 118:32. Calpe. Ancient name of Gibraltar. 194:22. Captain Bobadil. A boastful coward in Jonson's Every Man in his Humor. 66:12. caput lupinum. "Wolf's head," i.e., something subject to bounty. 169:27. Carlton House. The residence of the Prince Regent, George IV. 236: 29. catchpole. One who arrests another for debt. 202:29. Charlemagne. Charles the Great, king of the Franks and emperor of the Romans, d. 814. 50:15. Charles I. King of England. Exe- cuted for treason, 1649. 259:2. Charles Martel. Duke of Austrasia, and Mayor of the Palace (major domo, or steward of the royal household) in 719. 119:14. 154:34. Charles the Tenth. King of France, 1824-30. He issued arbitrary ordinances, restricting the freedom of the press, etc. 212:31. Cheltenham. A watering-place in Gloucestershire, Eng. 238:22. Chilperic, Childeric. See note on 119:12. Chowringhee. A healthful quarter of Calcutta where the English Govern- ment Houses are built. 74:12. Christ Church. One of the largest and most aristocratic colleges of Oxford. 145:7. Churchill, Charles. Eighteenth cen- tury satirist who attached himself to John Wilkes. 144:2. Cicero. Roman statesman and orator; impeached Verres for plundering Sicily, 70 b. c. 260:2. Clarkson, Thos. (1760-1846). Eng- lish abolitionist. 245:17. . Clavering, Sir John. One of the coun- cillors of Bengal appointed in 17 73. "An honest, hot-headed soldier." 173:2. Coalition, The. After the resignation of Lord North (Tory) in 1782, came the Whig ministry of Lord Rock- ingham, who died the same year The Shelburne Ministry which fol- lowed concluded the peace with the United States, but lasted only a very short time. Then (in 1783) was formed the Coalition be- tween the Whig followers of Fox and the Tory adherents of Lord North. This was supplanted at the end of the year by the ministry of William Pitt the sec- ond. 244:34. Colman, George (1732-1794). British dramatist. 144:2. Conway, Henry S. Aide-de-camp to the Duke of Cumberland, and later major general. 103:22. Coote, Sir Eyre. Captain at the battle of Plassey, 1757. Com- mander-in-chief in India, 1777. 197:18. Covent Garden. A square in London near the Strand, where a vegetable, fruit, and flower market is held. 275:30. Cowper, William (1731-1800). British poet of melancholy and retiring dis- position, much disturbed by religious doubts. 144:3. crimps. Men who made a business of decoying other men into military service. 67:24. Cumberland, Duke of, William Augus- tus. Younger son of George II. His "single victory" was over the Highlanders at Culloden, 1746. d. 1765. 71:27. 103:18. Cumberland, Richard ri732-1811). British dramatist. 144:2. GLOSSARY 297 Dangerfield, Thomas. Revealer of a pretended plot of the Duke of Mon- mouth against Charles II., 1679. 179:10. de facto, de jure. In fact, in law. 213:21. Demosthenes. The greatest Athenian orator. 262:7. dervise, dervish. A Mohammedan religious devotee vowed to poverty. 206:33. Dilettante (Italian, "lover"). A Lon- don society of the eighteenth cen- tury devoted to the fine arts (properly Dilettanti, plural). 123: 28. Dionysius. Tyrant of Syracuse; con- tended for the prize in tragedy at Athens; his poems said to have been hissed at the Olympic games. 276:34. Dodd, William. English clergyman, author of Beauties of Shake- speare, etc. Executed for forgery, 1777. 247:6. Domesday Book, or Doomsday Book. A record, made by William the Conqueror, of land-grants, etc. 123:10. dotation. Dowry. 222:13. Downing Street. In the West End of London; the location of the treasury building and the foreign offices, whence the name is equiv- alent to "The Administration." 230:18. Dundas, Henry (1742-1811). Scotch statesman, friend of William Pitt the Younger; created Viscount of Melville, 1802; impeached for mal- versation but acquitted, 1806. 155:17. Elphinstone, Mountstuarfc. Governor of Bombay, 1819-27. 139:12. ermine. Emblematic of the office of judge, whose official robe was for- merly faced with this fur. 204:12. Exeter. Capital of Devonshire, in the extreme southwest of England. 226:24. Ferdinafid the Catholic. Ferdinand V. , founder of the Spanish monarchy. 40:5. flash-houses. Low resorts. 67:25. florin. An Austrian coin, worth two shillings. 94:33. Foote, Samuel. English dramatist and actor. One of his plays was The Nabob (1772), the hero of which is Sir Matthew Mite, an East India merchant, lavish of his wealth. 123:35. foundation. An endowment for scholarships. 145:3. Fox, Charles James. English states- man and orator. Entered Parlia- ment as a Tory, but later became a Whig. Formed with North in 1783 the so-called Coalition Min- istry, which was defeated in the same year through his India Bill. 241:23. Francis, Sir Phihp. Clerk at the War Office, 1762-72; Indian Councillor, 1774; M. P. for Isle of Wight, 1784. See Junius. 173:5. 244:3. Franconia. A region of Germany (one of the old duchies) south of Saxony. 153:16. Frederic the Great. He had a strong ambition to rank as a French author, but his verses were unread- able. 276:34. Frederick, Prince. Eldest son of George II. and father of George III.; died 1751. 70:6. Garter King-at-Arms. The chief herald. 259:8. general oflBcer. A military officer above the rank of colonel 201:10. Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire. Georgiana Cavendish; married the fifth Duke of Devonshire in 1774; 298 GLOSSARY canvassed for Fox whom her hus- band supported in the Westminster election of 1784. There is a famous portrait of her, painted by Gains- borough in 1783. 260:26.. Gog and Magog. Warring tribes prophesied of in Rev. xx. 8. 50:30. Golconda. A diamond mart near Hyderabad. 51:25. Gordon, Lord George. Primary in- stigator of the Gordon riots, an anti-Roman CathoUc demonstra- tion in London, 1780. 247:4. Grampound. A "rotten borough" in Cornwall. 106:3. Granby, Marquis of. John Manners, English general who served in Germany. 103:24. Grattan, Henry (1746-1820). Irish statesman and orator. 239:19. Great Captain. Gonsalvo Hernandez de Cordova, a general in the Span- ish wars against the Moors. 40:7. Grenville, George. British Prime Minister, 1763-1765. 105:7. Grey, Charles, Second Earl Grey (1764-1845). One of the managers of the impeachment of Hastings. See note on 262:35. Guildhall. The Council Hall of the City of London. 278:15. Hayley, William (1745-1820). A voluminous, mediocre author, who was ridiculed in Byron's English Bards and Scotch Reviewers. 277:5. Hafiz and Ferdusi, or Firdausi. Per- sian poets of the fourteenth and the tenth centuries. The latter was the author of the epic Shah- namah. 151:4. Hebrew prophet. Jonah (iv. 9). 175:19. Holkar. A Mahratta chief, d. 1811. 39:11. Holwell, John Z. Surgeon in the East India Company. Survivor from the Black Hole, and narrator of the story. 76:11. Hosein. The adopted son of Ma- homet, who, supported by the Fatimites (so named from his mother, Fatima), aspired to be his successor. 62:4. houris. Nymphs of the Moslem para- dise. 62:23. Hugh Capet. King of France, 987- 996. 212:24. Huntington, William, S. S. A coal- heaver and preacher. He explained that S. S. meant "Sinner Saved." 126:14. Hyder AH. See 207:18. Hyperi'des. Athenian orator, pupil of Demosthenes. His oratory was graceful and powerful, holding a middle place between that of Lysias and Demosthenes. 262:7. imaum, imam. Reciter of prayers in a Mohammedan mosque. 246:20. Isis. The name of the upper portion of the Thames, which is joined by the Cherwell at Oxford. 143:12. Islam. The Mohammedan religion. 62:5. Jacobins. Violent French Revolu- tionists of 1789. 122:17. jaghires. Government revenues from land. 124:7. Jeflferies, or Jeffreys, George. The notorious Chief Justice of the "Bloody Assizes" under James II. After the deposition of James he was placed in the Tower. 204:12. Jenkinson, Charles. Secretary at War under Lord North. 134:27. Junius. The pseudonym of a writer of a series of anonymous letters attacking the British ministry, published 1768-1772. The author- ship was long in doubt. . It is now commonly believed that they were written by Sir Philip Francis, a Ul^UbfeAK Y 299 Whig, who was then a clerk at the War Office. 173:18. Juvenal. A Roman satirist. His description of the crafty lonians is in Satire 3:60-78. 157:30. lac, one hundred thousand (usually of rupees) ; crore, ten million ; zem- indar, tax-payer; aumil, tax-col- lector; sunnud, charter; perwannah, official order; jaghire, revenue; nuzzur, present. 265:27. Lally, Thomas A. A French general of Irish descent, governor of Pondicherry, 1758. 135:7. Lansdowne, Lord. William Petty (1737-1805). One of the most un- popular statesmen of his time, perhaps because of his contempt of political parties. He held no office after 1783. 241:18. Lascars. East Indian sailors. 196:33. Las Casas (1474-1566). Spanish Dominican; bishop of Chiapa, Mexico; defender of the Indians against the harshness of the Span- ish conquerors. 245:16. Leadenhall Street. A London street where the offices of the East India Company were formerly situated. 107:1. 160:10. Lely, Sir Peter. Dutch artist; court painter to Charles II. 141:1. Lenthall, WilUam. Speaker of the Long Parliament, 1640-1647, and 1659. 142:8. Lloyd, Robert (1733-1764). Poet; friend of Churchill, Garrick, and Wilkes. 144:2. Logan, John (1748-1788). Scotch clergyman and poet. 272:34. Loughborough. See Wedderburn. 264:23. LucuIIus. Roman general, conqueror of Mithridates and Tigranes in Asia Minor. 139:21. Maccaroni. A London club of the 18th century, consisting of travelled young men, chiefly fops and gamesters. 123:28. Machiavelli, Niccolo. A Florentine statesman in the time of Cesare Borgia; his name has become synonymous with deceit in state- craft. 92:6. Mackenzie, Henry. Scotch dramatist and miscellaneous writer; author of a serial called The Lounger, written over various fictitious names, among them "Margery Mushroom." 124: 7. 124:35. Maharajah. Great prince. Mansfield, Lord William Murray, Lord Chief Justice, 1756. Termed by Macaulay ' ' the father of modern Toryism." 241:16. Maria Theresa. Empress of Austria; daughter of Emperor Charles VI.; her title to the throne was disputed. 46:28. Marlborough, Duke of. Victor at Blenheim, 1704. 95:15. Meer (Mir, Emir). Ruler, prince. Melville, Lord. See Dundas. 261:20. mesne (pronounced mean) process. A writ issued between the commence- ment of a legal action and its execu- tion. 200:24. Metcalfe, Charles T., Lord. Pro- visional governor-general of India, 1835-6. 139:12. Mill, James. Philosopher. Author of History of India, 1818. 40:16. Minden and Warburg. Battles in which Prince Ferdinand of Bruns- wick, assisted by the British, defeated the French, 1759 and 1760. 103:30. Mite, Sir Matthew. See Foote. 125:15. Mogul. Title of the Emperor of Delhi, member of the house of Tamerlane, who founded the Mon- gol Empire in Hindustan. 49:3. mohur. East India coin, worth about seven dollars. 159:28. 300 Ui^USbAtl Y Monson, Hon. George. Member of the Bengal Council; died in India in 1776. 173:2. Monsieixr Jotirdain. A character in Mohere's comedy, Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme; a rich upstart who tries to wear the manners of a gentleman. 123:20. Montague, Mrs. Elizabeth (1720- 1800). A celebrated "blue-stock- ing" who made her home a center of wit and fashion. 260-23. Montezuma. Aztec emperor, im- prisoned by Cortez. See Prescott's Conquest of Mexico, Yl. 39:6. Moore, Dr. John. Scotch physician, author of Zeluco, a novel (1786), and works of travel. 135:19. Mucius Scaevola. A legendary Roman hero who thrust his hand into the fire to show that he could not be terrified by the threat of torture and death. 158:21. Munro, Sir Hector. British com- mander. Won the battle of Buxar, 1764; at Porto Novo, 1781. 208:21. Munro, Sir Thomas. Governor of Madras, 1819. 139:12. nabob. The native governor of an East Indian province. The name is often humorously applied to men who become wealthy in India. 44:24. Nelson, Admiral. Hero of Trafalgar, 1805. 95:15. Newcastle, Duke of. Prime Minister of England, 1754-56 and 1757-62. 70:15. Newington. A part of London south of the Thames. 143:31. Nizam. Ruler. 26:44. North, Lord. Prime Minister under George III., 1770-82. 172:18. Gates, Titus. See Popish Plot. 179:10. Odoacer. A barbarian chieftain under Attila in the fifth century; entered the Roman army and usurped the rule of the Western Empire. 118: 25. Old Sarum. One of the notorious "rotten boroughs" swept away by the Reform Act of 1832 to make place for commercial boroughs like Manchester and Leeds. In 1832 there was not a house in it. 175:30. Opposition. The political party out of power and opposed to the ad- ministration. 248:33. Orissa, Idol of. The Juggernaut, to which human sacrifices were made. 51:29. Orme, Robert. Historiographer to the East India Company. He secured Clive's appointment. 40: 18. Ouse (pronounced ooze). The Great Ouse, a river in eastern England. Olney, the home of Cowper, the "Recluse of Olney," was situated upon it. 144:16. pagoda. A gold coin of India, bear- ing the figure of a pagoda, worth $1.94. 151:33. 159:28. Palais Royal. The old royal palace in Paris. 236:30. Pannonia. Ancient name of Hun- gary. 50:32. Pantheon. A temple or gathering of all the gods. Often used figura- tively. 272:16. Parr, Samuel (1747-1825). English scholar, famed for the variety of his knowledge. 260:10. parts. Abilities. 42:31. Patna. Scene of a massacre of British prisoners by Meer Cossim, Nabob of Bengal, 1763. 39:10. Pepin the Short. King of the Franks in the eighth century. Son of Charles Martel. 119:14. 154:34. Perceval, Spencer. Chancellor of the Exchequer during the Peninsular War. 231:2. GLOSSARY 301 Pigot, George. Baron Pigot, governor of Madras (1775), brought to Eng- land the famous Pigot Diamond, which was afterward crushed to powder. 107:4. Pitt, WiUiam (1708-1778). "The Great Commoner." First Earl of Chatham. Premier after the fall of Rockingham in 1766. 103:3. Pitt, William (1759-1806). "The Younger." Second son of William Pitt, Earl of Chatham. Prime Minister after the fall of North and Fox (see Coalition), 1783. See note on 242:29. 155:17. Pizarro. Conqueror of Peru. 111:18. Plantagenets. The English line of Kings from Henry II. to Richard III. 258:26. Pollilore. The scene of a battle be- tween the English under Coote and the forces of Hyder Ali, 1781. 198:9. Popish Plot. An alleged conspiracy of the Roman Catholics against the British Government and the life of Charles II., 1678. Its chief fabri- cator was Titus Gates. One William Bedloe, an adventurer, also pre- tended knowledge of it. Lord Stafford was accused of being one of the conspirators, and was con- victed and executed. 187:12. Porto Novo. Scene of a victory by Sir Eyre Coote over Hyder Ali in 1781. See map, and 210:1. 198:8. Powis, Lord. Clive's eldest son. 40:30. Pundit. A learned Brahmin. 233:20. quit-rent. A form of rent the pay- ment of which absolves from all other service. 100:25. rajah. Prince. Resident. The representative of the British government at a native court of India. 223:33. resume. In legal usage to take back, as rights once granted. 224:10. Reynolds, Sir Joshua (1723-92). British artist and portrait painter. 260:7. Richelieu, Cardinal. French states- man, minister of Louis XIII. 279:26. Ricimer. A barbarian of the fifth century, who was educated as a Roman, made a patrician, and vir- tually ruled the Western Empire. 118:24. Rockingham, Lord Charles Watson- Wentworth. Whig leader of the Opposition in the House of Lords, 1768-81; Prime Minister from March, 1882, till his death in the same year. 129:24. Roe, Sir Thomas. Diplomatist under James I., ambassador to the court of the Mogul. 51:24. roi faineant. "Do-nothing King." Term applied to the later Merov- ingians. Cp. pages 118, 119. 195: 31. Runjeet Sing. Founder of the Sikh Empire; d. 1839. 51:28. rupee. The standard monetary unit of British India, worth about two shiUings, or fifty cents. 93:12. Sackville. George Sackville Germain. English commander, dismissed from the army for cowardice at the battle of Minden, 1759. 103:25. Sahib. Master; usually applied to Europeans, as the equivalent of Mr. St. James's Square. In Western Lon- don; crowded with aristocratic mansions and clubs. 149:9 St. Peter's. The cathedral at Rome, designed by Michelangelo. 49:10. salam, salaam. A deep bow. 193: 15. Sandwich, Lord. John Montagu, fourth Earl of Sandwich, after whom the Sandwich Inlands are 302 GLOSSARY named. He was first Lord of the Admiralty under the North admin- istration, and a dexterous poUtical jobber. 189:35. Saracens. Mohammedan enemies of the Christians. 50:33. Saxe; Frederick. Count Maurice de Saxe, a French Marshal, and Fred- erick the Great, King of Prussia, both of whom were in active career in the middle of the eighteenth century. 54:17. Scott, Major John. The political agent sent by Warren Hastings to Eng- land in 1780, to whose ill-judged zeal the impeachment of Hastings was largely due. 169:19. 240:16. sepoy. An oriental soldier in Euro- pean service. Seward, Anna (1747-1809). Authoress known as "The Swan of Lich- field." 277:5. Sheldonian theatre. Theatre at Ox- ford, where honorary degrees are conferred, etc. Founded by Arch- bishop Sheldon. 278:7. Sheridan, Richard Brinsley. Son of Thomas Sheridan the actor. Dra- matist and parliamentary orator; made a speech of six hours against Hastings in 1787; one of the man- agers of the impeachment, 1788. 255:29. Shore, John, First Baron Teignmouth. Governor-General of India, 1793- 98. 238:12. Siddons, Mrs. (Sarah Kemble). Eng- lish tragic actress. 259:33. Sidney, Algernon. English patriot, supporter of Monmouth, beheaded 1683. 158:23. Simpkin's letters. Published pseu- donymously. A burlesque by Cap- tain R. Broome, who signed him- self "Simkins the Second." 273:1. Sir Charles Grandison. The hero of Richardson's novel of the same name in which he is the extremely courteous lover of Harriet Byron. 237:28. Smith, Adam. Scotch political econ- omist, author of the Wealth of Nations, 1776. 128:3. Somers, John, Baron. English states- man. Impeached and acquitted in 1701. 258:34. Somerset House. The home of various government offices in the Strand, London. 230:19. South Sea Year. In 1720 a financial panic was created in Great Britain by the collapse of a vast specula- tive scheme for controlling the South American trade. 107:14. Spanish Juntas. Spanish legislative assemblies, notably those convened by Napoleon. 231:2. sponging-houses. Places where those arrested for debt were given tem- porary lodging to avoid regular imprisonment in case the debt were paid. 201:31. States-General. The legislative as- semblies of France before the Revo- lution of 1789. 266:15. Stoics. Greek philosophers of the school founded by Zeno. 158:13. Strafford. Thomas Wentworth, Earl of. Impeached by the Long Parlia- ment; condemned and executed, 1641. 258:35. Sudder. "Supreme." 106:24. Sujah Dowlah, or Surajah Dowlah, or Siraj-ud-Daula. See pages 74, 75 39:10. Supererogation, Works of. In Cath- olic theology, good works beyond the requirements of the law, held to counteract evil done against the law. 253:29. Tacitus, Cornelius, Roman historian and orator, conducted the prosecu- tion of Marius, proconsul of Africa, 99 A. D. 260:4, Tamerlane. Timur, or Timur-Leng, a Tatar conqueror, 1333-1405. GLOSSARY 303 His great-grandson, Baber, founded the Mogul Empire. 49:2. tanks. Reservoirs, used in irrigating. 208:30. Te Deum, The hymn, Te Deum Laudamus, "We praise thee, O God," sung on occasions of special thanksgiving. 56:29. Theodoric the Great. The king of the East Goths, who assassinated Odoacer, the ruler of the Western Empire, and founded the East Gothic Empire. 118:31. Theodosius. The last Roman emperor to repel the invasion of the Goths. 50:12. Thxirlow, Edward. Lord High Chan- cellor.under the younger Pitt. 241 :34. Tigranes. Ruler of Armenia, con- quered by Lucullus b. c. 69. 138:22. Trajan. Roman emperor, conqueror of the Dacians. 139:21. Trissotin. A pedant in Moliere's Les Femmes Savantes. 276:10. Turcaret. The chief character in a French comedy by Le Sage; a vulgar fellow who makes a fooUsh use of his ill-gotten wealth. 123:20. Turgot. French statesman of the eighteenth century who introduced many political and financial re- forms. 139:24. Tyler, Wat. Leader of the peasants' revolt, 1381. He is said to have killed a tax-gatherer who insulted his daughter. 201:12. Vansit'tart, Henry. Governor of Ben- gal; lost in shipwreck on way to India, 1770. 148:4. Verres. Roman governor of Sicily, brought to trial for plundering the province. Cicero made one of his famous speeches against him. 111:18. Versailles. Near Paris; site of the royal palace of Louis XIV. and his successors. 49:13. Wallenstein. Austrian general, hero of Schiller's dramatic trilogy of the same name. 46:19. Walpole, Horace (1717-97). Author of The Castle of Oiranto and many memoirs and letters. 105:12. Walpole, Sir Robert. English states- man, Prime Minister under George II. d. 1745. 71:5. Wandewash. In southern India; the scene of the defeat of the French under Lally by the British under Coote, 1760. 209:32. Wedderburn, Alexander, Lord Lough- borough. Scottish advocate, who became Lord Chancellor in 1793. 240:8. Wellington, Duke of. Hero of Water- loo, 1815. 95:16. Whitehall. A London thoroughfare leading from Trafalgar Square to the Houses of Parliament; the site of many government offices. 274:22. Wilberforce, William (1759-1833). English philanthropist, interested in reform of criminal law, abolition of slavery, etc. 254:18. Wilkes, John. See note on 105:9. William Rufus. William II., d. 1100. He began the building of West- minster Hall. 258:31. Williams, John (1761-1818). Satirist and miscellaneous writer. He took his pseudonym from the name of a witty Roman tailor of the fif- teenth century, whence also the word "pasquinade." 273:4. Windham, William (1750-1810). One of the members of Parliament charged with the impeachment of Hastings. 256:12. Wolfe, James. British general, killed at the battle of Quebec, 1759. 103:16. Woodfall, Henry S. Conducted the Public Advertiser in which the "Letters of Junius" were pub- Ushed. See Tunius. 175.10. 304 GLOSSARY Tvoolsack. Figurative for the office of Lord High Chancellor, his seat being a cushion stuffed with wool. 269:19. zemindar. A native East Indian landlord who paid a land-tax to the British government. 236:26. NOV e 1909 I COPY. nB,. TO CAT. OIV. NOV' 8 11909