questions of fidelity were ever dreamed of.

Now there are several palpable reasons which render a high-caste less likely than a low-caste man to be content as a sepoy, and more susceptible of being worked on by seditious intriguers. The one receives no additional consideration by becoming a sepoy; on the contrary, he is constantly liable to have some impure thing come between the wind and his nobility. He finds matter of offence to his religion if ordered to go on board ship for service in Burmah, or to cross the Indus for service in Afghanistan-if an officer passes within a few feet of his cooking pots, or a camp-follower draws water from his well. But the lowcaste sepoy cares for none of these things. His caste renders him of small consideration in the eyes of his countrymen, but interposes no barrier to his promotion in the British service. A Brahmin subehdar may hope, by a revolution, to fill his colonel's place-the low-caste man will probably lose what rank he had acquired. But the principal tie which binds the low-caste sepoy to our service is his wife and family. The high-caste Hindoo leaves these at his village. He considers it derogatory for him to bring them to camp, and can only see them by obtaining furlough from time to time. He is as much separated from his wife and family as the European officer from his relations in England; indeed, if the two were to start on furlough at the same time, it would often be uncertain who would first reach his home. The Madras sepoy is followed to camp by hosts of relations. The charge of these nowise interferes with his duties to Government, but would prove a very serious incumbrance to himself in the case of a mutiny. "We cannot mutiny," said the Madras sepoys to their officers in 1857; "for if we wished to do so our wives would not let us." The State is put to no expense on account of these families, it is not bound to find barrack accommodation for the native troops. On achange of station, which occurs about once in three years, each sepoy receives a small sum to build a new hut or re

pair one of the old ones left by the regiment which has been relieved. After this he receives no assistance while he remains at the same station. On the march from one station to another, the families are transported entirely at the private expense of the men. We consider that a trifling allowance of about one shilling per month should be given as additional subsistence money to those sepoys whose families are actually in camp, in order to encourage the practice of bringing them there. "He that hath wife and children," says Lord Bacon," hath given hostages to fortune; for they are impediments to great enterprises, whether of virtue or mischief." Impediments to virtue we have not found them in our Indian army; for the Madras and Bombay troops have always left them behind, and proceeded on active service without a murmur. But the sepoys themselves confess that they are impediments to mischief.

If we ask whose especial duty it is to maintain the discipline and interior economy of the sepoy army, the reply must be the Commanderin-Chief. Yet it is notorious that some of the men in whose charge this important trust was placed, were unable to mount on horseback or remember the names of their personal staff. Independently of being both physically and mentally incapable of properly commanding any army, they probably saw a sepoy for the first time in their lives on assuming their high appointment, and were as misplaced in the command of a sepoy army, as the Seraskier would be at the Horse Guards. They retired to the hills as soon after landing as possible, and when they were five years older, and fifty thousand pounds richer, returned to England, without having learned the difference between a Mussulman and Hindoo, or a Sikh and Bengalee. We acknowledge that the present commanders-in-chief are men of a very different stamp; but they have been brought up in a separate army, and are probably accustomed to view the Indian army and Indian service with a traditional jealousy which few men can entirely shake off. The amalgamation of the Home and

Indian services will no doubt ultimately eradicate these feelings; still we require some officer whose sole and special duty in each presidency should be the efficiency of the native army. The Commander-in-Chief has both the European and native army to look after. He has hitherto been, and generally will be, selected from the former-his sympathies are with them, and he regards the other as an inferior service. Looked at with the eye of a soldier, it is an inferior service; looked at with the eye of a statesman, it is a service requiring a vast amount of tact and intelligence on the part of its officers. It is a finer thing to command a vessel well equipped at every point, than a craft regarding whose seaworthiness there may be serious doubts; yet the latter would require the more skilful seamanship to conduct her safely.

We consider then that there should be an officer at each presidency placed in special charge of the native army. He should bear to it something of the same position that the commandant of artillery does to the artillery, but with considerably extended powers. He should be of high rank, and his position only second, and that at a short interval, to the Commander-in-Chief. He should have a seat at council. There has hitherto been a military member of council at Calcutta only, and he was always an officer who had been for long detached from the army on political employment. Such an officer as we propose, invariably selected from those whose lives had been passed with the army, would watch over its interests and guard against any encroachments on the rights of its officers which might weaken their position and authority. He would especially lay down rules regarding the class of recruits to be selected. This cannot be safely left to the regimental officers themselves. Even now some of the Bengal officers cannot repress a regret for the finelooking companies they used to command. "With all his faults," writes one officer, "Jack Sepoy was a gentleman." For our purpose this was his greatest fault. He was too much of a gentleman not to feel some compunction at serving as a mercen

ary under an alien race, but not gentlemanly enough to mind shooting his officers on parade, or murdering women and children.

If such a chief as we have proposed had existed in the Bengal army, possessing the confidence of his officers, and watching the signs of the times, he might have given warning of the coming mutiny in time to take some precautionary measures. We believe there is no doubt that symptoms had for some time been showing themselves, especially in the conduct of the men towards their officers, which the latter very naturally shrank from reporting. People were surprised, at the commencement of the mutiny, that regimental officers continued so long to have faith in their men; indeed, nothing but actual proof could persuade them that they intended to mutiny. But no real soldier can feel surprised at it. Whatever doubts might lurk in the corner of their hearts were repelled as unwelcome visitants. They preferred the risk of being shot down on parade to anticipating by one moment their men's defection.

There is one part of our Indian system which has proved of high importance; we allude to the separation of the army by presidencies. Between the sepoys of the three armies, even when they are of the same district, there are barriers placed by themselves, but whose existence it would be foolish to ignore in our dispositions. It indicates the existence of a considerable esprit de corps, and it was the salvation of that part of the Bombay army ad joining the tainted districts in 1857. We trust there will be no attempt to assimilate the armies, although many quack proposals of the kind are made. At present the Bengal army cannot be called reorganised, but a large force, containing by far too great a preponderance of Sikhs, has been raised. The enlistment of a Sikh army during the mutinies, by Sir John Lawrence, was one means of our salvation; let us beware that it does not also prove our destruction. There are certain qualities, excellent in themselves, which still unfit men for our service, and that of nationality is one, unless the sepoys under its in

fluence are kept with their families at some distance from their own district, and not associated too much in large bodies. The Sikhs possess a strong nationality, and a very little flame would soon kindle into a great matter amongst them. Indeed, the Sikhs in our pay very frankly discuss with their officers the chances of success in a struggle between them and the British, and assume, as a matter of course, that such a struggle must one day take place; and if twenty or thirty thousand Sikhs are kept in regiments by themselves, there cannot be a doubt that a struggle is certain, and its issue doubtful. The Bengal army, for the present, is officered on the irregular system, and, we believe, in a more healthy state than the old army; but an inspecting officer, with high authority, is urgently required to watch narrowly its development, and introduce improvements or check abuses while they are yet in the bud. A number of officers of the old army have thus found employment. They are in a better position than formerly, although we still think enough importance has not been attached to the position of an officer of sepoys. Some of the Bengal officers have been employed on the police and civil duties, and some, especially the seniors, remain unemployed-the victims of a system which was the handiwork of their superiors in days gone by, and which they had not power to alter. The Madras and Bombay armies are in nowise changed from what they were. The position of the officers is not improved-indeed it is worse than ever; for since the mutiny, officers are more than ever eager to leave their regiments, and there is a widening of the interval, already so much wider than in days of old, which separates the officers and men.

The Bengal army is therefore in a transition state; what it may turn out, we cannot venture to say. The excellent class of recruits from which the Madras sepoys are selected, and the admirable system by which their station for the time being becomes their home-often containing their aged parents as well as their wives and children-may save the Madras

army from originating or joining in a mutiny. The Bombay army, although not equal to the Madras army in this respect, is still far superior to the old army of Bengal. But we have described the system on which these armies are officered, and must leave it to our readers to decide how far it is compatible with the influence which sepoy officers, of all others, should possess over their men.

Not less important than considerations upon the discipline and economy of our native army is the question of its numerical strength, which, however, can be in no way separated from the general question of the numbers of troops of all arms, European and native, which we require. In former days, while our sepoys were faithful, we found that, with a total of 25,000 Europeans in India, we could hold our own and extend our conquests at pleasure. Our native army was at that time little short of 250,000 men. It would take up so much space to enter into a discussion of this subject that we shall only offer a few remarks. The mutinies have shown us-first, that the native princes of India are either less warlike than formerly, or increased means of observation have so impressed them with the idea of our power, that even the most favourable circumstances will not induce them to take up arms against us; second, that a mutiny of troops drilled and disciplined by ourselves is more formidable than any combination whatever of native princes. In fact, but for this unhappy mutiny, a generation was arising in India totally ignorant of war, except as a matter of tradition. If our European force is maintained at 50,000, we should be able to hold all the stations, and send 20,000 men into the field-a force amply sufficient to operate in half-a-dozen directions. A column of Europeans requires some native cavalry to make reconnaissances, and perform such light cavalry duties. If an enemy is broken and takes refuge in the jungles, it is also necessary to have some native troops, both infantry and cavalry, to give him the coup de grace. Sixty or seventy thousand ought to suffice for all

India. We shall soon possess means of concentrating troops, such as never entered into the calculations of former governments: every hundred miles of railway is worth a reinforcement of five hundred men.

The police force now amounts to 115,000 men. A decided mistake, in our opinion, has been committed by giving them all muskets. In settled districts a policeman requires nothing but a stout baton. There might be muskets, in the proportion of ten to every hundred men, at the headquarters of each district, for detachments or treasure-escorts to use. In a few unsettled districts it is of course right that the whole should be armed.

We cannot close this article without alluding to the impolicy of the measure which emancipated the native press in India. A free press and a despotic government upheld by the sword are incompatible. What says Lord Macaulay-"Combine a press like that of London with a government like that of St Petersburg, and the inevitable result will be an explosion that will shake the world." That portion of the press which is printed in the English language may

safely be left free, for nine-tenths of its readers are Government officials, and its only interest can be to correct abuses, not to embarrass the Government; but the native press should always be under control. A censorship was established during the mutinies, and we trust still continues. It is notorious that the native newspapers for many years contained seditious articles, which were read by every sepoy regiment. Free institutions should precede a free press; and until an Indian Government is prepared to grant the one it should withhold the other.

To carry out the reforms necessary in our Indian army will require a vigorous hand. There would be strong interests and still stronger jealousies to overcome. But the question is not an intricate one like Indian finance or Indian politics. The causes from which the Bengal mutiny arose lie on the surface-they are still at work; and an example of revolt before wanting, but never to be forgotten, has been set. It will be a national disgrace and a national disaster if these causes are suffered to remain, and a short interval divides the first and second mutinies.

3 A

VOL. LXXXVIII.—NO. DXLII.

THERE are periods in the history of most individuals at which their personal health becomes a subject of interest to all their friends. Either some sudden momentary attack, or some series of petty sicknesses has brought the matter to the mind and attention of the little community of neighbours and acquaintances under whose observation each man naturally falls. It is most probable that he knows all about his own colds and headaches, and rates them only one by one as the cause of so many lost working days or painful hours, without connecting them into a system, or looking forward to a result. But his own inadvertence is abundantly made up for by the benevolent and compassionate logic of the bystanders, who put one thing to another with astonishing ingenuity, and make out the circumstances of the unfortunate subject of their commiseration to be all but hopeless, before he himself, poor soul, is conscious of the smallest occasion for alarm. Have not we all been witnesses of-are not most of us conscious of assisting in-these mysterious looks, and undertones, and anxious inquiries, which after a while make it a certain fact that poor Mr So-and-so is in a bad way? If he is not ill at this moment, he will be shortly. He looks tolerably well on the whole, but that you know is so much the worse, showing the insidiousness of the disease. When this kindly human tendency has no worse effect than the common one of making men impatient of any inquiries about their health, and disposed to receive sympathy on that score very ungraciously, its effect is innocent; but there can be no doubt that sometimes the mind receives a more dangerous impression from that consciousness of having been given up by the lookers-on, and that the life which has been thus tacitly and sympathetically disposed of by other people, gradually receives in its own person a certain harassing sensation of insecurity. None of us can have any confidence that we shall be saved from our friends in this respect. The

tendency is universal; the sad tone, the pitying look, the steady and close observation, are familiar to everybody. "Ah, poor man, his health is not what it used to be;" the concerned little world has made up its mind on the subject. If he does the duty which his little community expects of him, the man, without loss of time, will die.

That stout and slightly plethoric individual, well-known in these and other pages under the name of John Bull, has come safely through many such interesting crises. Times out of number he has been in a bad way; and it is commonly known that continental bystanders have asked how he did, with all the well-known ominous signs of grieved regard and anxiety, even at a very recent period. England was falling into a sad condition of decay, trundling heavily and clumsily down her precipicepresently, alas, to fall headlong, and be made an end of. Ah me! how much the French philosopher was sorry! how deeply concerned was the sympathetic German! But there are laws, gentlemen, as you are all aware, inexorable laws which regulate health, of which it is sadly to be feared our poor friend had not been sufficiently observant-and nature always avenges herself. If by any chance England should fall out of the highest rank of nations, how grieved that select and exclusive circle would be to lose her agreeable society! how deeply afflicted they are to remark, now and then, her infirm condition, and how they shake their heads over her disturbed state of health! A sad loss, certainly; but still we must be resigned to the decrees of Providence, and, indeed, the wonder is, with her constitution, how she could have lasted so long.

This frequently-recurring and most amiable anxiety regarding the health and security of such an ungrateful commonwealth as our own, is not so entirely spontaneous, and without foundation, as it seems. English contemporary history is a puzzle to everybody but an Englishman. No