Another minor morality is carefulness and punctuality in answering letters. There are those who never answer letters at all, and those who answer without replying to them. You write for a special purpose. Unwisely you may imbed your special purpose in such conscience, they make no sort of apology for on the back of a sailing swan. I am bound to their misdeeds, but affect quite a virtuous sur- confess that my friend is notorious for this kind prise if you reproach them. If you reproach of thing. He is the best fellow in the world, them warmly they end by being the aggrieved frank, warm, and generous, a faithful friend, and parties, and perhaps quarrel with you because kind and noble-hearted in all his relations, but you did not approve of their delay. Perhaps, he is unpunctual. You must give him a margin if the appointment has been for the settling of perhaps some hours in all your appointments of some important business, in which minutes with him, and then think yourself lucky if you count for hours, and the sands in the glass of get him at the end. He makes it a practice to time are all golden, perhaps then you can im- begin to dress at the hour of invitation, and he press them with a sense of their enormity if lives half a dozen miles from everywhere. they come very far beyond the appointed hour. And if it can be made clear to them that they have really run any risk, and incurred any loss, by their unpunctuality, that, touching them selves, may give them a stir up in the right direction, and may make them more careful for the immediate future. At least in important a thick surrounding of padding that the point matters; but for the comparatively unimportant matters (comparatively with life and death and fortune, that is), say, a dinner engagement as an example, what habitually unpunctual man cares for that! He is asked for seven; at half-past seven or a quarter to eight, in he comes, with a happy smile on his face, as if he had struck the very point of time, and knew nothing of such vulgar annoyances as chilled soup or sodden entrées. If he can say that he missed the train, he is quite at ease with himself and all mankind; if he can further say that a man came in and kept him, that is reason enough and to spare for being too late for heaven. It never seems to occur to him that it was part of his duty not to be too late for the train—and that if any man whatsoever came in, his first obligation was to send him out again when the fitting moment for departure arrived. He can give no valid reason why he should have been late. His chief duty was to keep his dinner engagement punctually, and all the rest is merely excuse, of no real value to any one. I have known a man of this kind, asked for seven, come in jauntily at nine. He had a patient, timid hostess, who had counted on him as a tower of strength, being a man with a presence, and a jovial manner, and an abundant atmosphere, and a generous vitality, and who, therefore, was of considerable value to the young dinner-giver. She waited for her tower just an hour and five minutes by the clock. When another half-hour had passed he entered with the air of a prince coming to his throne, and coolly accepted the offer of such meats and dishes as had long ago been relegated to the region of accomplished facts. He said he had been kept; further, that he had missed the train; and he had not the shadow of remorse so soon as he had made his excuse. The distress of the young hostess, her anxiety lest her dinner would be spoilt and her guests set out of tune, the fiercer annoyance of the host, careful of his bride and specially desirous that her trial dinner should succeed, the discomfiture of the people whose places he had already deranged and now again shifted-all this was of no more consequence to that unpunctual guest than so many drops of rain falling gently of it may be blunted by just so much. Still, you ask your question distinctly enough, and you make your point fairly visible. Your friend returns you letter for letter. Certainly so much morality he does accomplish; but you may look in vain from one end of the sheet to the other for any real reply. Your questions are all ignored, but your gossip is taken up and commented on. Padding is returned by padding, but the point is not so much as mentioned even in the most airy fashion. In all the husks so scrupulously exchanged, there is a total oblivion of the fruitful corn that was due as well. Some great man, whose name I have forgotten at this moment, used to counsel his younger friends to spend but little thought in answering letters, because, he said, after a certain time they answer themselves. Not always; if even often. And granting that they do answer themselves, the sickness of hope deferred, the anxious watching for some assurance of certainty, the yearning, the disappointment, meanwhile, ought to be sufficient cause why any man with a human heart in him should reply with some degree of punctuality. How many love affairs have come to nothing just for want of answering letters! The lover is lazy, and puts off his answer till to-morrow. He had time to-day, if he would have exerted himself, but, like Christina Rosetti's prince, he dallies and delays, and does everything but what he ought; and when to-morrow comes, then come duties and occupations which cannot be put off. The next day it is the same; and the next; and the next; till such a time has elapsed that he is ashamed to write now. And so the affair dwindles and pines, and at last dies the death of starvation. This may be said of all other relations which fail for want of the written food they live on. A gift is sent a present of game, of flowers, of fruit, of wine-and naturally a reply is looked for: a few words of acknowledgment and thanks, just to let the donor know you have received his gift, and appreciate it as it deserves. But you cannot, or rather you will not, make the amount of leisure sufficient for those few words. You delay and delay, until at last you, too, are ashamed to write at all; the consequence is, that your friend takes offence. The same may be said of visits. We drift from the time conventionally prescribed, into the dark region beyond, whence we can only retrace our steps by performing the penance of an apology. This is a region with rapidly widening circles of darkness, and corresponding intensity of penance. If once we pass a certain boundary, we are lost for ever; but though we know this, we go on and on till finally we come to that boundary, and then we cannot, if we would, turn back. Hitherto we might, with shame to guide and goad us ; now not even shame will do ; and no penance and no apology will open the gates closed rigorously against us. More friendships have been lost for want of these small observances of letter-writing, returncalls, and the like, than for even graver faults. These neglects are to friendship what weevils are to ship's biscuit, what white ants are to your table-legs, what dry-rot is to your house beams, what rust is on your bright steel-the very essence and power of ruin; and no one who has as much intellect as would guide him safely across a common, if set in the right way, would ever run the risk of losing the best thing life can give us-affection-for such petty offences as these. Another minor morality, or rather a whole group of them, refers to self-culture and one's own condition. Of these cleanliness is one, though, indeed, I almost question the propriety of classing cleanliness as a minor at all, and not setting it side by side with the majors. Also is it a minor morality to dress one's self with such an amount of beauty and attention as one can compass. Careless dressing, untidy habits, ugly clothes, are all minor immoralities, and show either an obtuseness of perception or an indifference to the feelings of others equally reprehensible, whichever it may be. of the larger duties, the more scrupulous we shall also be to be without blame as towards the smaller. METAPHYSICS AND THEOLOGY. Ar the end of every road there stands a wall, On that bare wall strange landscapes: dark or Peopled with forms of fiends, or forms of saints: Faint echoes from that painted wall respond. But, now and then, with sacrilegious hand, Some one wipes off those painted landscapes all, And callous emptiness, without a trace Of any prospect either good or bad." Of picture painting. And men shout, and call ON THE PUNJAB FRONTIER. A MAIL from India now and then brings news of the capture, assassination, or death in action, of British officers employed on the Punjab frontier. As this kind of news has not been heard for the last time, a little insight into the work of those whose duty it is to risk their lives in the raids and skirmishes constantly taking place on that frontier, may be worth giving to their countrymen at home." Also is it a minor morality to entertain your friends in the best way possible to your means, if so be you are minded to entertain them at all. No mock Gunterisms! no bad Cape wine labelled with high-class names, no pretences of French cookery, which are simply English meat made uneatable. Every attempt at things beyond your means is an immorality, just as the best that you can do is your bounden duty. And if you do not do this, The long strip of country bounded on the give no more entertainments, let me beseech west by the Suliman Mountains, and on the you, for they are but sorry shadows of enter- east by the river Indus, stretching from Peshatainment to your friends and to yourself-wur to Rajenpore on the Indus, about four merely marts wherein you buy their discomfort hundred and fifty miles, is guarded by an army by your own loss of self-respect. of twelve thousand men. Lastly, we ought all to take something to society-our quota, which we feel it a moral obligation to pay. Your silent, reserved, perhaps discontented guests, who mope in a corner and bring nothing to the general fund, are profoundly immoral persons, judged by the rules of the Social Exchange, and fail in one of the implied conditions of their presence. We go to amuse as well as to be amused. In fact, all these minor moralities rest upon broad and important foundations; and we may be very sure that the more earnest we are in the fulfilment This army, rather famous in India, but little heard of at home, is called the Punjab Frontier Force. Its duties are to guard the frontier. On that long, and for the most part barren, strip of country, separated from the rest of India by roadless deserts and the grand flood of the Indus, it abides continually, unless great occasions, like the Indian mutiny, call for its aid elsewhere. The force, for the most part, is distributed among five garrison towns, each about a hundred miles apart, namely, counting from the north, Kohat, Bunnoo, Dera Ismael Khan (or as it is sometimes facetiously called "Dreary Dismal Khan"), Dera Ghazee Khan, and Rajenpore. These towns are covered by an array of outlying forts, ten and fifteen miles apart; the smaller forts garrisoned by mounted and dismounted irregular troops, called the "Frontier Militia ;" the large forts by a troop of cavalry and two or three companies of infantry belonging to the Punjab Frontier Force. The roads, or rather tracks, between these forts are patrolled night and day by detachments of the Punjab Cavalry and mounted militia. In the large towns patrols of cavalry go their rounds during the night. The work to be done by the Punjab Cavalry is very heavy. The raiders, when hard pressed, leave the stolen cattle and rush to their hills and fastnesses, whither it would be unlawful, if it were possible, to follow them. The troopers, therefore, when they do happen to come up with a body of thieves, however large, proceed to charge, with something like the satisfaction of an angler, who, after hours of unsuccessful whipping of streams, finds that he has to play a monster fish. The frontier Afghans, and indeed Afghans in general, are fine strong men, whose looks verify their tradition that they are descended from Saul, King of Israel. Any one travelling up the frontier, and visiting the bazaars of Dera Ghazee Khan, Ismael Khan, Bunnoo, and Kohat, in the winter months, when a great number of the Frontier Afghans are driven by the intense cold out of their own hilly country, would wonder at their stalwart forms and handsome though dirty faces, set off by long curls. He would also wonder how these men, reckless of life and delighting in bloodshed among one another, could be kept in order by the authorities of England. When they come into our territory they seem to be rather overpowered by the order they see everywhere around them, utterly unlike anything they have been accustomed to in their own country. They wonder why the great Commissioner Sahib, whom they see dispensing life and death in the court-house, and whose decrees, backed by squadrons of cavalry and regiments of infantry, have drawn money, or its equivalent, from the reluctant pockets of the most famous raiders of their tribes, should trouble himself to see personally whether the bazaars are kept clean, and how the markets are getting on. When they find that he can address them in their own language, they mutter, "Verily God is great, and the Nazaranees are a strange people!" European officers going round at all hours of the day and night, troops and commanding officers turning out regularly for parade, a thousand and one such things so increase their awe that they do not breathe freely until they are well out of the atmosphere of our laws, so much at variance with their own law of the sword. No doubt when they are again amongst their own hills they congratulate themselves on living under a happier and better dispensation, where it is one of a man's comforts that he may either kill or be killed, nobody minding which. The frontier force is entirely under the orders of the Viceroy and Governor-General of India, and, in a certain sense, has nothing to do with the commander-in-chief. The general commanding the force, is nominated by the Viceroy, and receives his orders from the Lieutenant-Governor of the Punjab. The officer commanding the cavalry in the different garrison towns, inasmuch as all reports are made to him, is responsible to the officer commanding the station, for the peace of the Frontier. The reports are presented daily. They often run in this wise: "Letter from repalder (native officer) Mahomed Ameer Khou, Fort of Secunder. "To officer commanding Punjab cavalry, protector of the poor, distributor of alms, the brave and merciful, &c., and after many salaams. Be it known to you that on the night of――, a mounted messenger from the chief of the village of Vuzeerabad came with the enclosed letter. I immediately turned out the troop under my command, sending Duffalar (native sergeant) Kishun Sing with thirty troopers to guard the mountain passes nearest the village, while I proceeded as quickly as possible to the village. The Mullick (or chief) of the village reports that about the time of evening prayer, viz., at sunset, the Afghans of the Vuzeeree tribe came down from their hills, taking away forty camels, one hundred sheep, and twenty mares, killing one and wounding two of the inhabitants. They also carried away Hussun Bee-Bee (beautiful lady). "The protector of the poor will excuse me if I tell him that the chief and the villagers vow vengeance, and have sent messages to the dif ferent villages of their tribe, as also to Bahadur Shah, chief of the Murwutees, to whom the woman was betrothed, to collect a force to raid the territories of the Vuzeerees. I reminded them that the Sirkar (Government) would protect them; but would be very angry at their fighting. They said that they were disgraced men already by the capture of Hussun Bee-Bee, that shame sat so heavily on them that they would fight and die, and that it was the same to them whether they were killed by the Sirkar or the Vuzeerees. My Lord will pardon me; but it might be advisable that either my Lord or the brave Deputy Commissioner Sahib should inquire into it at once, as my Lord well knows that Bahadur Shah is of a hot temperament, and that the Murwutees are a large and brave tribe. Moreover, the woman is reported to be very beautiful. "What more can I say? This letter is from the slave, and may God grant you a son (a common salutation). I have left three troopers of the Mounted Militia to report instantly to my Lord if the tribes are gathering." ENCLOSED LETTER. "From Ahmed Shah Mullick, of Vuzeerabad, to the brave Commander of the Fort of Secunder. "Come quickly. I and my tribe have eaten dirt. The vile thieves of the Vuzeeree tribe (may the curse of Allah rest on them), having come down, have looted this town and deluged the streets with blood. Capim Khan, the faithful, is the bearer of this letter. What more can I say?" The above letters would be sent off at once to the offices of the Deputy Commissioner; or, if the Cavalry Commandant think the case of sufficient importance, he starts off to the Deputy Commissioner himself. After a friendly chat, it is agreed, most likely, if the place be within thirty or forty miles, to go off and inquire into the matter. Tents are soon packed and sent off on camels, while mounted messengers ride away in all directions with perwanahs (or orders) to the different forts, chiefs, and villages, to assemble troops. Early next morning the Commissioner and Cavalry Commandant may be seen galloping off, with a mounted escort, relieved every seven miles. When within half a mile or so of the village, they are met by troops and chiefs, and, perhaps, by a curiosity-loving and curiously mounted tag-rag and bobtail mob. Every one either possesses or can borrow, a horse. Inquiries are made on the spot. This circumstance, coupled with the fact that European officers in person come to make the inquiries, shows the people that we are not to be trifled with. Letters are written to the different tribes informing them that Government has charge of the case, and therefore they must not take the law into their own hands. The chief of the Vuzeeree tribes is ordered to return the cattle and the woman, and a fine is imposed. If the above terms be not complied with, none of that tribe are allowed to come into our territory to sell their goods; those of the tribe who are already within our frontier, are turned out, and perhaps some of the principal ones are retained as hostages. After this warning, and if the tribe still persist in bad behaviour," an expedition" is undertaken. The villages of the offending tribe are burnt, their crops cut, and their cattle driven off. But whereas this is done in the face of the more than Abyssinian obstacles of the country, a good many casualties may be expected on both sides. This is a most objectionable way of retaliation; but living as we now do at the foot of the hills, it is the one way possible. If we held any strong positions in the hills themselves, it might be different; for, if there were a chance of the raiders being intercepted on return to their own ground, they would think twice before swooping down upon our territory. But government shrinks from annexing any more territory, and also fears to enrage the Afghans. The latter objection may not have much weight, seeing that they already hate us as much as they possibly can. There is a great deal talked and written about the Russians, and that it would be advisable to gain the affection of the frontier tribes, and use them and their territory as a barrier. Whoever bids highest and pays it, will be, for the time being, the favourite with the frontier tribes. But the Russians can hold out a bribe in the shape of plunder, which we cannot. Any one acquainted with the frontier can fancy the keen savage delight of these wild and brave but poor people, in the hope of one day plundering the cities of India, Umrit sur, Lahore, Loodianah, Mooltan, the land of the hated Sikhs; that race, who in the times of Runjeet Singh, the lion of the Punjab, caused many a Pathan warrior to bite the dust. An Afghan never lets a Sikh live if he can catch him in his own hills. Moreover, it must be remembered that the tradition of the times when the Pathans descended like a wolf on the fold, and returned laden with the plunder of Delhi, Agra, Allahabad, Benares, and other cities, is still fresh in their minds; nay, even so lately as the Indian mutiny in 1856, these wild warriors joined our standard by hundreds when they had some prospect of sacking the rich towns of India. Raids on the frontier are of all dimensions, from a raid where a few cattle are stolen by a tribe, or part of a tribe, to a raid where the tribes assemble by thousands, as in the case of the Euzufsaie campaign of 1863. The people in the hills and plains of the frontier still lead the lives described in the first chapter of the book of Job, where the Sabean and Chaldean plunderers are mentioned. In general one or two officers from each of the garrison towns, on duty for a fortnight or a month at a time, travel through, inspect, and report at the end of their term on the outlying forts belonging to those towns. In the cold weather the duty to some is pleasant enough, but from June to August the heat is almost intolerable. Shut up in a small fort, surrounded for the most part by stony tracks and barren wastes, a British officer looks with longing eyes in the direction of Afghanistan, where before him lie gloriously wooded mountains and valleys. The mountain tops are covered with snow, to which the Afghans, who in winter live in our territory, may be seen wending their way, with men servants, and maid servants, sheep and oxen, he apes and she apes, just as their forefathers the Patriarchs did thousands of years ago. They say that it would be next to impossible for them and their cattle to live through the summer in the scorching plains. The large birds, as geese and pelicans, seem also to have taken alarm at the approach of summer, and day and night armies of them may be seen and heard croaking with delight as they majestically fly in single or double file towards the land of Promise. Much has been said of the barrenness of the interior of the frontier country. The border hills certainly are fearfully and wonderfully barren; but officers who have accompanied military expeditions into the interior of the Suliman Mountains have spoken with enthusiasm of the lovely scenery and climate in those hills, where Europeans could live as in their own dear land. Yet let it not be supposed that officers, civil and military, living on the frontier must needs lead a very melancholy life. Frontier life is pretty well varied with amusements as well as duties; amusements keenly enjoyed by those who spend a great part of their lives in the open air. There is hunting of jackals and foxes, and peradventure a hyena now and then, with thoroughbred English foxhounds; there is very good hawking, quail, snipe, partridge, and makhoor (wild goat) shooting. There are fishing, cricket, racquets, and in the hot weather swimming. Time passes pleasantly on until the time comes for two or three months' privilege leave, when away we go to spend our holidays in the lovely vale of Cashmere or the pleasant hill stations of the Himalaya Mountains. Even then, we are glad to get back to see how men and horses, hawks, and hounds, have been thriving in our absence. The mode of travel is peculiar to the Punjab Frontier force, and is generally accomplished by a system of posting. Should an officer wish to proceed from one station to another-the stations are generally one hundred miles apart he writes to a friend at the other end of his journey to post him half way. In case he is friendless, he writes to the officer commanding the station, when horses will be posted for him at intervals of six and seven miles. The traveller is supposed to have already got horses posted half way from the station he is leaving. It may seem strange that horses should so easily be had for posting. But forage is cheaper than in the rest of India, and thus the necessity of visiting the frontier posts, joined to the natural love of horseflesh, causes frontier officers generally to possess at least two horses, while the cavalry officers own three or four. I have known an officer commanding a cavalry regiment to have seven horses, four of which were first-rate chargers. Men, too, who will not lend their horses never get the loan of horses for themselves; and this in a country where all travelling is accomplished on horseback is a great inconvenience. The journey of a hundred miles is often done in one day, but oftener in two, unless the torrents are down, in which case it may be requisite to wait till they dry a little. But "If possible, move on," is the unwritten law of the frontier. When the rivers are down (as they may be after only a few hours of rain), a traveller may be seen on the bank of the river with what seems to be a roll of leather under his arm; but which, after a deal of puffing, swells into a large bladder, commonly called a mussuck. Supported on this, after the manner of the ancient Assyrians and other people of the East, the traveller grasps his horse's bridle, and swims over with his steed to the other side. Travellers on the frontier, if Europeans, are obliged to have a mounted escort with them. Stations of cavalry and mounted police are kept on the road by government for purposes of escort. tence: saying that he had mistaken her for a gentleman, as she wore a hat and had large buttons on her cloak. SICK SILKWORMS. THERE was lamentation among us boys in the High School of Dolehurst. Pet mania broke out amongst us with considerable violence. Some took to guinea-pigs, which came to grief; others preferred rabbits, which the master's gardener killed, and said it was the foxes; one or two fed pigeons, which flew away or fell to the cat. There was one youth, of a mercantile turn, who invested in laying hens, built up a coop in the playground, and made pocket-money of his eggs. At last most of us took to rearing silkworms; for the old mulberry-tree in the cottage garden offered us enviable facilities in the way of food. We hatched the eggs cased in flannel bags, comfortably in our bosoms, and kept the worms in card boxes on shelves among our books, to the horror of chambermaids; for the caterpillars would creep out, and they are not pleasant things to find upon the sheets. We had cocoons in abundance, and spun fine silk capitally. We reared new broods from thousands of eggs, and nearly converted the dormitory into a menagerie. The master rather encouraged us occasionally, by lecturing on silk, its uses, its origin, and manufacture. If we horrified young sisters during the holidays by an exposition of our pets-especially those in the flannel bags-we had something to say to the higher powers about the raw material of cassocks and bright ribbons. My father soon knew (from our erudite store) all about the two monks who, in Justinian's time, stole away some larvæ from Cochin China in the hollow of a cane, and thus introduced the silkworm into Europe. We could prove that Virgil was napping when he supposed that the Chinese combed silk from leaves of certain trees. We could and did explain what Horace meant by his bis tincta murice vestes, and proved to our cousins, most satisfactorily, that Roman ladies occasionally dressed in gauze, and were satirised by the fogies of old Rome. Our ugly pets were tolerated, and I now think kept us out of not a little mischief. But at last misfortunes came upon us. Our pets sickened and died, transformed into mummies, desiccated specimens ready for a museum. At first, a single dark spot appeared on the back of the caterpillar; then the spots multiplied. The doctor, confidentially consulted, told us our pets had got "pebrine," or pepper disease. The caterpillars indeed looked Officers invariably travel armed, for the as if some one had mischievously dusted them Afghans like to boast around their camp fires, with black pepper (poivroine). By the aid of in their own hills, that they have spilled the his lancet, he showed us that the blackness blood of an Englishman. Many a fine fellow passed under the skin, all through the tissues, on the frontier has fallen before the knife or and into the blood. We saw it, even on the bullet of an assassin. Not long ago, a lady was scales of the perfect moth. It was the veritable shot at and wounded by one of these fanatics, plague spot, for all the creatures attacked died who, before his execution, evinced great peni--not usually, indeed, in the caterpillar state. |