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and variety, arose to such an exceptional pitch that perforce I abandoned thoughts of escape. We had the car to ourselves, but, honor to whom honor is due, had the bench of Bishops adorned it with their presence it would have made not the slightest difference.
•' 'Tis the rheumatiz that's throublin' me. Not two nights gone, I was that bad that 'Paddy,' sez I to himself, ''tis dyin' I am! Bring me the priest,' I sez. 'Let me die aisy.'"
"Glory be!" came in a sepulchral tone form the lady opposite.
"Paddy gev wan lep out o' the bed, an' away he wint, and whin Father Cassidy came, I gev wan screech out o' me. the pain was that bad. 'Twas me leg was the worst! Look an' I'll show ye."' A mighty foot was thrust out, and then began a fumbling at the petticoats,—but I waited for no more. With one wild dash I hurled myself between the two old ladies, tripped over the all-absorbing member, heard a smothered yell, and gained the outer air.
Bone-setters are now much less frequently met with than they used to be. They were endowed with special gifts which enabled them, with an absolute ignorance of anatomy, to set any and every breakable bone in the human body. Faith in them was absolute; they, like the King, could do no wrong, and, incredible as it may seem. I know myself of instances in which limbs set by a mere qualified doctor were afterwards broken again and reset by some tinker or smith, generally an itinerant, who having received his fee went on his way rejoicing. One blacksmith had an unrivalled reputation in the country, and so renowned was his skill that a leg (set by. and mending nicely under the care of, the dispensary doctor) had to be broken and set again by him before the sick man or his relations would believe recovery possible. One old woman treated in this way never
regained the use of her leg, while on the other hand many cases, in which no certified practitioner had any part, got well with marvellous rapidity. That the men were possessed of certain rude skill there can be no doubt, but whether the faith in their methods which held firm root in the hearts of the people was justified, it Is difficult for those of the present generation to determine.
A few words about Paddy the Doctor may not inaptly conclude this sketch. He was born at Crosshaven in the County Cork on a Good Friday morning many years ago, and the priest told his mother that if he were christened between the first and second mass on Easter Sunday he would have power to cure all diseases. The conditions having been fulfilled Paddy grew up possessed of almost miraculous powers. To a certain knowledge of herbs and their uses he added the magic potency of charm and spell which no malady can resist, and soon his fame spread far and wide. With two complaints he was particularly successful, one being the ''Evil" (King's Evil) and the other the "Farsee," (farcy) which only attacks horses. Once three men were sent to him as a deputation from County Waterford, begging him to return and heal the people there, and his mission was attended with wonderful results. It Is some sixteen or seventeen years since Paddy was last heard of, but the following, which is his own prescription for the cure of the Evil, gives a very fair idea of his methods.
"You must take the first pup of the first litter, and divide him from the nose to the tail, split the tail too and then apply one half of the pup to the part affected. The patient can never stand it more than two hours, 'tis so fetching, but in troth 'tis a wonderful cure entirely!"
THE NEMESIS OF IMPERIALISM.
India has long been the brightest jewel in the ease for Imperialism. In the Indian Government it is urged we have the best type of paternal administration. A vast population of three hundred millions of Asiatics of every grade of civilization, destitute of all sense of nationality, without internal cohesion, incapable of self-government, unable to defend themselves against any foreign invader, are protected, sheltered, and advanced in civilization by a handful of men drawn from a race more happily endowed by nature with the governing faculty. These men undergo exile and hardship for a modest pay and a scanty recognition. They administer with firmness and impartiality, and without a breath of corruption. Their government respects national character and traditional custom. It is a government of India, not indeed by Indians but, as far ns possible, in accordance with Indian ideas, while at the same time it is an education in Western improvements. To the eye of the enthusiast there is no finer example of the protection and gradual elevation of a weaker and more backward race by one which is certainly stronger and perhaps higher.
This is one side of the picture: but there is, unhappily, another, which the facts have forced upon our view. We have not- for the moment to enquire how far the idealized account which we have given is partial or one-sided. What we have to face is the reaction of the Indian system upon our own political ideas. Be it as good as it may, our Indian Government is a sheer bureaucracy, resting upon the sword; a bureaucracy as autocratic as that of Russia, as independent of the will of the governed, less indifferent, no doubt. to their likes and dislikes, but even more alien to their minds. The irony
of the situation in which Mr. Morley found himself last Monday is but an inevitable incident in the exercise of such a government by a free people, an irony which only reaches the superlative degree when the party whose special mission it is to maintain and develop freedom is in itself the depository of absolute power. We can almost feel the shiver which Mr. Morley must have experienced when he read the praise conferred upon him by the "Times" for his resolute action. We can sympathize with the feelings with which he defended the system of arbitrary arrest and deportation, and admire the frankness with which he admitted that a political prisoner could not so much as be brought to trial without stultifying the Government that arrested him. We do not blame Mr. Morley for his defence. We like its frankness, and we recognize, as all fair-minded men must recognize, that his action is an inevitable consequence of his position. Given an autocratic Government, the familiar machinery' of suppression of meetings, muzzling of the Press, arbitrary arrest and deportation without trial, aud indefinite imprisonment or restraint—all this well-known apparatus of Governments that dispense with the consent of the governed is inevitable as the sequence of any physical effect upon Its cause. Government can be carried on without such machinery, but arbitrary government cannot. Still less can the Secretary of State, sitting In his office with thousands of miles of land and sea between him and India, take upon himself the responsibility of rejecting the advice of the officials on the spot If the Implements of arbitrary government are a necessary part of the stock In trade of any bureaucratic system, re*liance upon the man on the spot is no less essential. The supreme chief of a despotism is necessarily the subject of the lowest official who happens to be nearest to the scene of disturbance. A bureaucracy must support its own servants, for it has no one to rely upon outside them. Still less can a Secretary of State responsible to this country for the maintenance of order In a distant dependency, Ignore the warnings of the men who are actually administering that dependency. When the responsible official warns his superior that grave disorders will follow if strong action is not taken, when he represents that unless one man is deported to-day, the soldiers will perhaps be shooting upon thirty or forty men next week, he virtually leaves his superior no choice. There are no tested channels of information by which his advice can be checked. There is no external authority to whom to appeal. The acting adminstrator, nominally servant, is in reality the master of the situation. Let those blame Mr. Morley who feel certain that in his position they would have taken upon themselves the responsibility of resisting the advice of the Administrator of the Punjab, backed by the authority of the Governor-General, while they looked forward to the possibility of serious riots which would have been attributed to their refusal to take the directions which their advisers had shown to be necessary.
One thing, however, the Liberal Party can fairly ask of Mr. Morley in this emergency. It is that he should take the House of Commons wholly Into his confidence. If he is responsible to India for its tranquility, he is also responsible to British Liberalism, to give a full account of the reasons which have induced a grave infringement of those elementary personal rights which Liberals are peculiarly bound to maintain. It is to be regretted that the thorough ventilation of the subject in the House of Commons has been obstructed by one of those block
ing motions which in the last Government became a scandal, and which we had hoped had now been allowed to fall into desuetude. We trust that Mr. Morley, whose statements have lacked nothing in point of candor, will, with his characteristic courage and frankness open his mind to his friends in the House, and throw himself frankly upon their support. We could also wish that if the deportation of Mr. Laj Patral is irrevocable for the present, the other cases of detention or restraint to which Mr. Morley referred might be more carefully looked Into. It Is with something of a shock that one learns that there are people who have been in such detention since 1897, and even since 1891. There is surely some distinction between an arbitrary act of administrative authority, applied to meet a sudden emergency, and a prolonged exile, always without trial, which does not cease when the danger is past. Mr. Morley will do a service to the progress of liberal ideas in Indian administration if he should find himself able to restrict the power of administrative exile to the period of actual imminent danger.
It is not, however, by the sanction which he may give to such administrative measures as these in moments of emergency, that Mr. Morley's Indian administration will In the end be judged. As an Indian administrator, he will stand or fall by his success in dealing with the permanent grievances of the Indian people, and the standing causes of their estrangement. These are not to be removed by the deportation of an agitator or the sileuciug of press and platform. The most pressing grievances of the people are, no doubt, financial; and on this head it is satisfactory to note that a further reduction of taxation is recorded in the last Indian Budget, and this notwithstanding the loss of opium revenue which has been already experienced. «ud which must be increased by the just and courageous policy adopted by Mr. Morley in relation to the opium traffic. In his offer to the Chinese Government, Mr. Morley took a great step towards removing a blot upon our Indian Empire; and it must not be forgotten by his critics that that step, absolutely dictated as It was by requirements of international justice, only increases his difficulties in dealing with Indian finance.
But there is a deeper and more difficult question than' that of taxation, which Mr. Morley has to tackle. We are beyond doubt forcing an open door when we urge upon him the desirability of devising means of modifying our present autocratic rule, and making a beginning In the work of associating the Indian people themselves in the task of government. The conception of the Oriental as a passive being, who has nothing to do with the laws except to obey them, or with the taxes except to pay them, that conception which underlies the idealist's picture of our Indian Government, is rapidly ceasing to be true. We ourselves have educated the native of India in European ideas. By our own doing, he knows that we are meting out to him the justice which, for two centuries, we have repudiated on our own account. There is a ferment in Asia, the European leaven has begun to work. In India, men begin to ask about the cost of this (Jovernment which we extol; about the value to them of the army which we maintain and for which they have to pay. Just as the effects of education were beginning to be felt, and the new ideas were spreading, there came the reactionary administration of I/jrd Curzon, the lectures of the Viceroy on the mendacity of his subjects, and the partition of Bengal, which was aimed directly at the growing power of the more educated na
tives. To the shock of this reaction, Sir Henry Cotton traces the present unrest. The course of Indian progress was rudely threatened under the old administration, and here as elsewhere a Liberal ruler has to deal with the situation created for him by his predecessors.
But he can deal with it only on Liberal lines. Men who are, after all, ventilating the grievances and the fears of unrepresented millions cannot permanently be met with police notices suppressing their meetings or closing their newspaper offices. They can be met only, In the end. by Imposing upon them a share In the responsibility. By what gradual steps to initiate them into the work is one of the most difficult problems ever set to a statesman; and we fully understand Mr. Morley when he says that the present disturbances can only complicate the solution, and postpone the day of reform. Yet, if Liberalism Is not to admit its bankruptcy, reform must go forward; repression may have its way for a week or a month, it may serve to allay a riot and avoid the effusion of blood; but repression, as none know better than Mr. Morley, is no cure for a social disease. We would say rather that It Is the method by which political disorder propagates itself from one country to another, for every time that we deny justice to an Indian subject we weaken the authority of justice among ourselves. We lower our authority as advocates of freedom in the councils of Europe, and as Liberals we impair the force of our pleas for freedom in our own country. We wish liberty for India, not merely for the sake of India, but for the sake of England. For, say what we may of the innate difference between European and Oriental, no man can deny a right in one continent without marring the eloquence wherewith lie pleads for it in another.
THE ART OF BEING POOR.
An amusing discussion has beeu going on in the Westminster Gazette about "Life on £85 per Annum." Can a single woman, brought up in the cultivated class, live a civilized and happy life on less than two pounds a week? The actual question affects a small number of persons, but it suggests some larger issues. It is wretched to be really poor, if by poverty we mean want. But quite apart from all questions of hardship, of hunger, or cold, or constant fear of destitution, it is not pleasant to be much poorer than our neighbors. Yet there are those who support this comparative evil with positive grace, even though they have a family dependent upon them. They have acquired the art of being poor, and it is an acquirement which prosupposes many qualities and much study.
Of course there are a few people belonging to the cultivated classes who like being poor. Art has nothing to do with the matter. They are, so to speak, poor by nature. They would not stretch out their hands to get a fortune. They do not care for the good things which money brings. They feel more free without them. They are bothered by possessions, fettered by luxury. Conventional well-to-do existence seems to them as a sort of cage out of which one can only get through the mediation of dependents. They give orders with a secret effort, and receive deference with a secret shame. The network of laws which support a graded society, and the outlines of which, blurred by English commonsense, seldom obtrude themselves upon the notice of the ordinary Englishman, disfigure for them the landscape of life. They long to get out of sight of them.
and in that moderate degree of poverty which imposes simplicity and precludes anxiety they are always most at their ease. Those, however, whom nature designed to be rich, whom fate placed among the well-to-do, and sheer necessity alone forces to study how best to be poor are not as these. They do not follow an Inclination; they accomplish a task. Some power of selfsuppression is necessary to them, and some power to suppress others is at least convenient.
As we look around us among our acquaintance we shall all admit that we know a good many people who have been very much embittered by comparative poverty, while many others on the same income are very happy. It is impossible not sometimes to feel that the troubles of the first are, at least, in a measure of their own making. It is not true that they made at the very outset au initial mistake. They decided to look upon themselves as poor rich-people instead of taking an entirely opposite point of view and considering themselves rich poor-people. They drew a false line between luxury and necessity, and consequently they have no luxuries at all. They forget that the only really rich man is the man who has something to spare, and the only really poor man is the one who has nothing over. It is almost impossible but that a poor man who regulates his standard of life by that of his richer neighbors should feel some envy. It is very hard to see some one else doing so easily and so well that which we with so much struggle are doing so badly. Consequently one great source of pleasure Is shut to these poor rich-people,—i.e., pleasure in other people's pleasure. The light, de