and seek his deliverance in due course of law. It might be too much, perhaps, to expect this; but if allowances are to be made for his resistance to the magistrate's authority, surely some liberality should enter into our judgment of the magistrate's endeavours to support it. He had seen the authority of Government defied by a man of extraordinary influence, who had now entrenched himself within walls, whose reputed sanctity was considered a protection, where he had unfurled the flag round which the faithful are bound to rally, and invited his well-wishers to join him. To see these events, and to neglect to guard against their consequences, would have been either fatuity or culpable indifference.

It was said, indeed, that the course which the magistrate adopted was the most injudicious that could have been chosen, and that it would have been better at once to have employed the force he had called out, instead of merely posting it to overawe the insurgents. This objection, strongly urged by the same parties who condemn the magistrate for too much energy, is obviously inconsistent with the former. The magistrate's situation was one of difficulty, and if he were somewhat tardy in his endeavours to appease the ferment, he acted ultimately with energy, courage, and self-possession.

The mooftee was not idle in his retirement, and he shewed himself no unworthy follower of the Prophet, who claimed the right to propagate his religion by the sword. He appears to have forwarded communications to the principal Mussulman towns in Rohilcund, calling on the followers of Mahomet to stand forth in defence of their insulted religion. Numbers, in consequence, flocked to his standard. The greater part of them, like the actors in another religious tumult, "knew not wherefore they were brought together;" but as the craftsmen were not the less ready on that account to cry "great is Diana of the Ephesians!" so the Mussulmans of Rohilcund, knowing nothing but that the mooftee had raised the holy flag, were fully prepared to shout "blessed be the Prophet!" and to second their exclamations by the sword. How their religion was endangered by the tax, they felt it no part of their duty to inquire; they were told that it was endangered, and that was enough. It is in this way that the objects of riot are completely and rapidly changed, as the progress of insurrection rolls on. A tax of a few miserable annas gave rise to the disturbances at Bareilly; but they soon acquired a more elevated character. The superstition, which holds so large a portion of the human race in chains, came in aid of fiscal grievance -it quickly absorbed every other consideration, and the police-tax was forgotten in the danger which was supposed to threaten the religion of the warrior Prophet.

Prudently reluctant to proceed to extremities, the magistrate attempted to negociate, and Major Hearsey and Lieut. Roberts were despatched to confer with the mooftee; the nazir of the collector was also commanded by that officer to perform the same duty. The fanatical spirit of the people was strongly manifested during these conferences. They were constantly interrupted by persons, who declared that they had come in express search of martyrdom, and as negociation, if successful, would deprive them of the antici

pated pleasure, they viewed the process which was going forward with great fear, and the most unrestrained disapprobation.

Such were the feelings of a large portion of the people. Their leader had evidently no appetite for martyrdom, and he had taken considerable pains to avert such a fate from himself. In the conferences with him, religion seems to have occupied a very small share of attention. It was well to parade it before the people, but in meetings of business, the mooftee was willing to let it sleep, and confine the discussion to temporalities. The chief complaint related to the conduct of the kotwul, which, without doubt, had been bad enough. His dismissal from office was peremptorily demanded, and as “revenge is sweet," especially in the East, the delivery of his person to the mercy of the insurgents was declared the first condition of their obedience to the law. The further points contended for were, the abolition of the tax, the pardon of the mooftee, a matter too interesting to the chief negociator to be overlooked, and a provision for the families of the persons killed in the previous affray.

The negociations did not, however, advance satisfactorily. The mooftee probably thought that resistance had gone far enough, but this was by no means the belief of his adherents. The interruptions, which the negociations received from the burning zeal of the people to enjoy the company of the houris, have been already mentioned. The invitations to arms, which had been forwarded by the mooftee, now began to manifest their full effect. Hordes of fanatical and armed Mussulmans, anxious for the blood of the infidel, flocked in from other towns of Rohilcund. A more temperate zeal would have better suited the purposes of the mooftee; but, like Frankenstein, he had no power of controlling the monster he had called into existence. If he declined extreme measures, there were others prepared to undertake them. The timidity of age might paralyze his resolution, but in a person named Mahomed Esa, the mob found an unscrupulous and vigorous leader. He was young and reckless; he had obtained great influence over the insurgents, and he availed himself to the full of the state of circumstances to inflame the popular frenzy. The anxiety of the malcontents for action became almost uncontrollable; one party proposed an attack by night upon the small force which the magistrate had placed to watch the movements of the mooftee. Happily, this was opposed, or its destruction would have been almost inevitable. The intention, however, was only postponed; and on the morning of the 25th, after murdering an English gentleman, under circumstances of wanton atrocity, the attack was made. The insurgents were met by the British detachment (which was commanded by Captain Boscawen) with the greatest firmness and gallantry. Its number was small, and the circumstances in which it was placed difficult; but spirit supplied the want of the one and overcame the embarrassments presented by the other. The insurgents were defeated with considerable loss, and this result led necessarily to their dispersion, and to the re-establishment of order. Resistance to authority is seldom long protracted, if attended by ill-success; the motley materials

of which an insurrectionary force is composed can with difficulty be kept together for an up-hill contest; the stimulus of success being wanting, the mass falls to pieces of itself. So it proved with the disturbers of the peace at Bareilly; the leaders were appalled, and the populace, on this as on all other occasions, scrupulously conformed to their example.

Riots like these, when they meet with such a termination, are usually regarded by historians as of small importance. But this is an error. They afford indices to the state of public feeling, and, if maturely considered, bestow important lessons on rulers and statesmen. From occurrences not more important than those at Bareilly, mighty empires have had to date their ruin, and new dynasties their accession to power. Such transactions shew the tendency of public feeling; they disclose the possible sources of danger, and teach the legislator what he may do—what he should refrain from doing. The instruction, indeed, is lost upon mere closet-politiciansupon those who sit and frame constitutions and laws for all the nations of the earth, without any reference to the peculiar habits, feelings, and opinions prevailing among those who are to be governed by them. The tax imposed at Bareilly was of small amount, and it had been introduced without much difficulty throughout a considerable portion of India. But it was at variance with the habits of the people upon whom it was attempted to be levied, and it offended many prejudices. It levelled certain aristocratic distinctions, and, of course, excited the displeasure of those who had been accustomed to profit by their existence. But the opposition was not confined to them-it pervaded the multitude, and though the unpopularity of the impost was increased by the ill-conduct of those engaged in the collection of it, there can be no doubt that it was greatly disliked independent of all aggravating circumstances. It was a change this in India is always regarded as an evil. It might be a beneficial change, but it is useless and dangerous to insist upon benefiting men against their will. The Emperor Joseph thought to gratify the peasants of Hungary by depriving the nobles of the power of inflicting corporal punishment upon their serfs. This, to common observers, looks like a boon. By those for whose benefit it was intended, it was regarded as a grievance. The Hungarian peasantry stood up to a man for the liberty of the lash, and were ready to make war to the knife in defence of the privilege of being whipt. The sovereign who attempted this innovation, and whose whole reign was an unsuccessful struggle for unattainable improvement, affords a warning to all rash and bigotted reformers, which they would do well to study.

In India, no subject is of greater delicacy than that of revenue. The people have submitted to many changes in the laws by which they have been governed, but the main features of the revenue system have always been the same. The land has always been the great resource of the Exchequer, and almost every impost has been connected with the land, in some way or other. Assessments have frequently been oppressive, and though it would be too much to affirm that they have been paid cheerfully, it is certain that they usually have been paid quietly, so long as there was the power of

paying them at all.

The land must for ages to come be the main dependence of those who rule over India. New taxes, though less burdensome than the old, will not be submitted to; and he must be very far gone in the fanaticism of economical science, who would risk an empire for a fiscal experiment.

One point, in connexion with the disturbances at Bareilly, is remarkable. The police arrangement at that place was taken out of the hands of the people themselves, and assumed by the Government. By this change, a

small additional charge was incurred. This took place in a state of society not far advanced either in knowledge or freedom, and where whatever of government existed, had always partaken of an arbitrary character. In England, which has the reputation of being the most enlightened country in the world, and which has long boasted of being one of the most free,-at a period which some believe to be the most free and the most enlightened which even England ever saw,—a measure precisely similar in all its parts was introduced by its Government. The police of the metropolis, where, from various causes, the spirit of resistance is more alive than in the provinces, was withdrawn from the management of the citizens, and undertaken by the Government. The change not only invaded the right of self-government, of which in these days so much is said and written, but, as in the former case, it was attended by increased expense. At Bareilly, the experiment gave rise to insurrection and bloodshed. In London, it was effected, not, indeed, without murmurs, but with resistance so feeble as scarcely to deserve the name. Here is a problem for solution by political philosophy; but one which, perhaps, like many others, political philosophy will find too hard for its powers.

E.

A PERSIAN REPARTEE.

THERE was a jester, named Rubbee, who was a very profligate character, but possessed of considerable keenness and readiness of wit, the flashes of which he darted most unsparingly on all around. Among others, he once chose to attack a poet, who was in company; and, after sporting his wit in various shapes at his expense, ended with turning his name into several ridiculous forms, and then triumphantly challenged him to retort. The poet immediately wrote:-" It is the tail of an ass at the head of an inversion of (the word) (ayb, 'blemish.') To understand this, an explanation is neces

بيع

; now

ر

ر

عيد

دريم

sary: the tail or end of (khur, an ass') is the letter (r), and inverted is (r) being put at the head of this, gives Rubbee, the jester's name; who, it scarcely need be added, was severely discomfited by the repartee, and made as speedy an exit as possible, amid the hootings and hissings of all present.*

• Addison's Indian Reminiscences.

LIEUT. BACON'S "STUDIES FROM NATURE IN HINDOSTAN."*

AMONGST the mightier changes which have attended the growth of intellectual improvement, it is hardly worth while to notice the very different system upon which books of travels were compiled in former days, compared with that which is now adopted. If an Englishman, who ventured into such remote countries as Turkey or Egypt, in the sixteenth century, mustered up sufficient resolution to publish an account of his travels, he felt it incumbent upon him to commence a new and more wearisome journey through the works of classical authors, or to beg from the charity of his learned acquaintance all the contributions they could spare from their common-place books, in order that his work might be safely launched into the ocean of literature with its due ballast of learning. Nor was this enough, unless some confidential friend could impart a strong tincture of euphuism to his style, so as to give it an exotic hue, that style and subject might be on a par with each other. At the present day, on the contrary, when (considering the multitude of books of travels) it might be expected that more labour would be bestowed upon them by the competitors for public favour, a book of travels is often a mere coup d'essai : the writer has nothing to do but to tell what he has seen in easy and natural language; the reader of such works desiring no longer to have his attention diverted from facts to admire the ingenious perversions and perplexities of the style. In the former case, the author resembled the rustic, who makes a prodigious preparation, and brushes his hat and smooths his hair, before he knocks at his patron's door; in the latter, he is like a well-bred man, who walks into "the presence" in his ordinary habit, and with an easy and unembarrassed air.

Our essay-writers, who were prone to give too artificial a character to every thing connected with science and literature, require very transcendant qualities in a writer of travels. Even Johnson expects him to be philosopher of the first rank, with the practical knowledge of a statesman. But, in truth, the prime quality in a writer of travels, is a facility in describing, -what has been termed "the art of narration." The same curiosity, which is the impulse to travel, will generally make the traveller observant of what he meets with, and, in nine cases out of ten, quick in seizing the characteristic points of the country and the people he visits. A philosophical traveller, one who has prepared himself (as it is termed) for travel by stocking his mind with the contents of books, is by no means a person whose representations of foreign countries we can always implicitly trust. He is too apt to theorize, and to observe facts through the medium of prepossessions. It would be invidious to adduce instances in recent times; but they are not wanting.

India is of all countries that of which we most need faithful and inartificial descriptions; and yet, till of late years, an air of romance ran

• First Impressions and Studies from Nature in Hindostan; embracing an Outline of the Voyage to Calcutta, and Five Years' Residence in Bengal and the Doab, from 1831 to 1836. BY THOMAS BACON, Lieut. of the Bengal Horse Artillery. Two Vols. London, 1837. W. H. Allen and Co. 2 T

Asial Journ.N.S. VOL.22. No.88.