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included liberty and encouragement to the colonist. But to expeet, as some writers do, the regeneration of India by the mere introduction of such a system, shows imperfect thinkers at home who are not intimate with the details of a question which they undertake to diseuss and to decide upon.
The utmost possible extent to which colonisation could go in such a climate, and among villagers so tenacious of their lands, would not
influence the babits and manners of very few of such races as constitute the general population of India. It might as well be expected to supplant two hundred million of inhabitants by an emigration from Great Britain, as to change the existing state of things by encouraging colonisation. The rights of the landowner and cultivator in India must always be respected, the laws in regard to such, well-known and dear to the people, must be strictly adhered to, and the revenue raised as of old by themselves. For us to set to work to improve or alter their institutions, would be about as wise as it would be for the native Indian communities to attempt to regulate the British constitution.
There are in India, besides the landed proprietors, a cultivating nonproprietary class, hereditary cultivators, as is the case with most other occupations, constituting a large and important class of persons, who hold lands by an inferior title in tenant-right. The ruling powers have found much difficulty in dealing with this class. The point has been to encourage and protect them as much as possible, without infringing the rights of the lordly brotherhood. Often the class has reason of complaint against the landlord, but more frequently they are themselves ex. proprietors or descendants of such who, failing to pay the revenue, have come under the operation of the inexorable sale-law. They are then so many little hotbeds of sedition, continually trying by threats and violence to bring the purchaser of their rights to terms,
so as to leave them still virtually in their ancient position as proprietors. If this object be attained, well and good; if not, a perpetual civil war rages in the village. “ Villages," Mr. Raikes says, "inhabited by large bodies of highspirited men, such as the Brahmins or Rajpoots
, whose rights in the land have been sold for revenue default, form the plague-spot in our administration.” The same hostility which these ejected landholders show to the native purchasers would be manifested in a still higher degree to all foreign intruders.
This is a state of things, however, which ought not to be. A government essentially protective over so many millions, ought not at the same time to be oppressive in the extreme. For it cannot be considered otherwise to dispossess the oldest of the Hindoo tribes of that which they have held through so many political changes, and which they value more than anything else—their landed property. The introduction of the system of a fixed moderate rent in the North-Western Provinces did a great deal towards alleviating the condition of the lower class of cultivators, even of the Jat and Katchi tribes, and of those families who cultivate the soil in small patches of varying extent in almost every village. The Hindoo cares not who rules the land, so long as he is left in secure possession of his little speck of it. As in former times it was only among themselves that they had to fear the loss of their lands, it is obviously the great secret of all future government to enhance that security as far as is compatible with a fair and moderate revenue tax.
Speaking of the condition of the Indian peasant, Mr. Raikes says:
Compared with the peasantry of Europe their lot is fortunate enough, so far as material prosperity and physical comfort are concerned. If they suffer from a burning sun, they avoid the severer privations which are caused by the cold of northern countries. If their food be coarse and simple, so is their taste; if their clothing be scanty, it is yet sufficient. If a famine once or twice a century decimate the population, they avoid the continual dearth of Europe. If their houses be rude and ill furnished, they are at all events rent free and roomy enough. The English labourer, poor fellow, whilst he sweats over another man's fields, is looking gloomily forward to the time when his strength will fail to keep him longer out of "the union”—the Indian labourer is happily free from such dismal forebodings. Go into his house, except just before the harvest season (when he is now and then on short commons), and you will see piles of large earthen jars full of grain, and very often a good cow or buffalo to give milk and ghee to the family,
A less agreeable side of this picture is presented in the morale of these people. They may, perhaps, be less dissolute, on the whole, and less brutal than the looser part of the European poor, but centuries of subordination to village tyranny have left them servile, timid, and deceitful. Of the Indian peasantry it has been said emphatically, “The truth is not in them. A lie seems to come to their lips almost more naturally than the truth.” But how, also, it has been justly asked, can moral right
” be found in the mazes of a wrong religion ? When the fountain-head is corrupt, where shall we look for the clear stream of truth and virtue ? 'Tis sad to know that so debased is the state of millions of men-men patient, laborious, and frugal--fit for better things.
Sadder still will it be if we quietly acquiesce, as has hitherto been done, in the moral depravity around us. Be it far from us to fold the hands for ever in patient indifference, to turn away our heads and hearts with scorn : such is never our duty as men, as Englishmen, as Christians. For what purpose has Providence brought us mysteriously, almost miraculously, to the height upon which we stand, if we dare not to look around us, to look forward, and to see India awaking from the torpor of ages, flinging away her ancient superstitions, and accepting from her conquerors the blessings of truth?
Every Englishman in India has his mission. Here colonisation, to the small extent that it is probable that it can be carried out for some years to come, may operate beneficially. The hitherto exclusive system ought to be broken down, and as the little country of Greece spread its language, its arts, and its religion over Asia Minor, Egypt, and Italy, and as Rome made Italy, France, and Spain Roman in language, laws, and manners, so our small islands may ultimately influence the millions of India. Hitherto public duties have forbidden, and secular engagements have opposed, all good example, still less all telling precept. Too often the example given has been the reverse of what it ought to be. Yet are our actions and our motives scrutinised in India by thousands of observant and intelligent men. Who can say how the silent eloquence of a virtuous life shall speak to their souls ?
It has been justly remarked, that it is only by example and by influence, those grand levers of the human affections, that we may hope to move these heathen hearts. We may, however, do more than this: we
may, under an imperial and paternal government, exert ourselves directly for the benefit of the people. To give one instance : the natives are ignorant, and it has been too much the fashion to despise their own existing educational resources, and to take for granted that nothing short of a miracle can elevate native morals and manners. A mere excuse for our supineness, a cloak for our egotistical indifference. We should try to improve the native schools, and thus to give the popular mind a better direction. Where there is a will to be useful there is always a way to be found. And if it be granted that knowledge is better than ignorance, science better than quackery, then surely it is a noble work to shape aright the rising mind of the country, to give a true direction thereto instead of a false direction - bread instead of a stone. If we cannot dispense with the village schools, why not strive to improve those nurseries of the Hindoo soul ? Why not put useful books instead of trash into the hands of the young? Once the taste for sound pabulum felt, the healthy appetite will grow with what it devours. Tales about fabulous gods, demons, and puppet-kings, will be thrown aside when the true lights of history and science dawn
the mind. If any human means can, under the blessing of the Omnipotent, prepare
the means of education are not to be neglected. We cannot give all the instruction we would; our eyes, our sons' eyes, may not see the light of God break forth upon India, but this is no reason for refusing to toil, or assist in dispelling the darkness.
BOUND FOR IND I A.
BY NICHOLAS MICHELL.
LIKE a broad shield above the mast,
The tropic sun was blazing bright,
Each glossy billow slept in light.
The lazy winds all sleeping now,
From off her scarcely moving bow.
Fiery impatience in each eye,
When o'er the wave they burned to fly;
And dying children, called them on :
In dreams alone was vengeance won;
Blow, breezes! blow! Oh! why thus sleep ye,
When every soldier's heart is tire ? What demons in their caverns keep ye?
Better than calm, the tempest's ire. See yon small cloud !—the shining billow
Doth break its glass-refreshed and strong, The waking wind leaves Ocean's pillow;
The stooping vessel sweeps along.
And bears them swift to Indian lands,
And wanted are bold hearts and hands : Eager the heroes, light is flashing
In every forward-gazing eye;, Now up the bay the ship is dashing ;
Ahead the lands they pant for lie: Their ardour Reason scarce can rein, Thus gazing o'er the narrowing main, And chiefs would calm them, but in vain. Brave hearts ! they go not to invade
A peaceful land, rights trampling down, Nor to crush patriots, nor with blade
Vain-glorious, to achieve renown; But to avenge the wrongs their race
Hath suffered from a treacherous horde,
And write stern justice with the sword;
And cheers are thrilling through the sky;
Now let the vile assassin die! Now let the musket-volleys rattle,
Now let the fate-winged cannon roar!
Till plains are red with rebel gore :
It was early morning in Barbadoes. A carriage, which had been on its way to Bridgetown, was suddenly stopped by its inmate, and ordered back to whence it came. So the black driver turned it round, whipped up his horses, and soon drove into the grounds of a pretty country residence.
A lady, young and nice looking, descended from the carriage, and entered the house. She passed into one of the sitting-rooms, closed the door, and sank down on the sofa : if ever tribulation was expressed on a human countenance, it was on hers.
“To bring herself to shame!" she wailed—“to quit her husband's home clandestinely, and depart with another, over the wide seas!-to enter deliberately on a guilty course !—to desert him on what
be his bed of death! And to leave me here, unprotected, in his house, where I ought not to be! Oh, that I had known Emma better, and never come out to her!”
Susan Chase suddenly broke off her words, and held her breath. A gentlemanly voice was accosting the driver, who, like all his native fraternity, was taking his own time ere he drove off to the stables, and the conversation ascended to her ears through the open window. “Have you brought back your mistress, Jicko?”
No," cried Jicko. “ Mistress not anywhere. Mistress gone to England in the ship."
“ Nonsense, Jicko. You are inventing."
The gentleman turned from Jicko, and entered the sitting-room. He was one of the clerical staff at Barbadoes, and had recently been appointed to a church there; previous to that, he had acted as an assistant, or missionary, though in holy orders. He was about thirty years of age, with a prepossessing, intellectual countenance. His name was Leicester.
"You have not found Mrs. Carnagie, Miss Chase,” he said to Susan.
What answer was Susan to give? This gentleman had been present when she departed, half an hour before, in search of her sister, had closed the carriage door for her, and agreed with her in assuming that Mrs. Carnagie had slept at the friend's house, where she had gone to an even. ing party the previous night. To confirm the news that her sister had departed clandestinely for England, was to betray all : yet how keep the tidings from him? Confused words rose to her lips, but one contradicted another; and, bewildered, terrified, and helpless, she burst into an hysterical flood of tears.
A suspicion of the truth arose in the mind of Mr. Leicester. For he had been a frequent visitor, and had observed, with disapprobation, certain points in the recent conduct of Mrs. Carnagie. Susan sobbed like a child. It was not often she could be aroused to such emotion, but when it did come, it was uncontrollable.
Dec.-VOL. CXI. NO. CCCCXLIV.