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And yet these negociations were to terminate officially resident at Mysore, represented the in the most sanguinary war ever previously waged Governor-General in camp, until he was laid aside by the Anglo-Indians in Hindostan, in Welling- by severe illness, which prevented him from tak. ton's victory of Assage, and in Lake's even still ing an active part in the campaign that more terrible victories, which fixed the British flag lutionised all our relations in Central India. in Delhi, over the ruins of the great Mogul's Some points in this romantic period will jusdynasty and empire. Malcolm departed from tify us in extending our notice of this work to Calcutta to his "Mysore residency early in Feb- limits incompatible with our remaining space, and ruary, 1803, not satisfied with the position, because therefore we may, at this place, break off these it removed him from the bustle of the capital to notes of an interesting life that we again intend a distant post, and required his time in the dis- to resume. charge of its honourable and onerous duties. It The character of Sir John Malcolm is brought is apparent from all the correspondence published out very favourably in his home correspondence that, at this date, the Marquis Wellesley had not during these exciting periods. He was at the any intention of risking a collision with the time the richest member of the family, and he Mahrattas. Major Malcolm, as the confidential paid the larger portion of the debts due by his friend of the Governor-General, was able to give father. For a long period he assisted materially a complexion to even written letters that they did in maintaining the numerous family at Burnfoot. not bear on their face; and even Lord Clive at Although he settled ultimately in the South of Madras consented to act upon his interpretation England, yet a Border home appears to have been of an important document, although his views his ambition during his early life. could only be justified by the omission of two The subjoined letter, written now long ago, by words which certainly were found there.

He Sir John Malcolm to Count Woronzoff, bears on a joined the advanced forces under Major-General | topic of present interest :Wellesley upon the 19th March ; and we may just

The desire of securing the prosperity of Georgia and your observe in passing that, although Malcolm was

other provinces in that quarter, and promoting the trade on the senior of Wellesley in years,—and had been the Caspian, will be your motives for interfering to prevent far more fortunate than young men who have no the north-western parts of Persia being disturbed, while we hereditary patrons are usually—yet he was only a shall see in any troubles that disturb the southern and Major, although he had been Ambassador to

eestern parts of that kingdom a check to our profitable trade

with the Gulf, and discover in your coming across the Arras Persia ; while the future Duke of Wellington was

(whatever be the professed object) a dangerous approximation already a Major-General, before Assaye had been to our possessions in the East. That all this will eventually gained and Argaum won ; indicating thus how far happen I have no doubt. Besides the natural action of a political connexions serve a young man in his pro- great military empire there is (as my whole life has given me

an opportunity of observing) an impelling power upon civili. gress through life.

sation when in contrast with barbarism that cannot be The energy

of General Wellesley at that early resisted. These combined causes will bring Russia forward, period gained for him more solid advantages than and there is no nation mure constitutionally jealous than one any political favouritism could confer. The latter which, like Great Britain, has its greatness in a considerable only afforded to him that, which many men want, degree grounded upon extended commerce. Besides, the

wisest of nations, or, at least, those who have the greatest an open road to fame and power. One circum

reputation for wisdom, have a tendency to create evils by an stance shows the terrible activity of the man. He anticipation of them, that mocks all calculation. wished to save Poonah from destruction, which There is no subject npon which all my reasoning powers was threatened by the Mahratta Chief, if the (such as they are) have been more exercised than on that of British forces should advance on the city. His the relative interests of onr respective countries regarding

Persia ; and the result is a conviction that as our policy plans were defeated by the rapidity of their march

must be always defensive in that quarter, it can never give from Poonah. Major Malcolm wrote on the 21st serious alarm to your Court, and the latter, whether we conApril :

sider the unproductiveness of the soil, or the character of We arrived here yesterday, after a march of forty miles, the inhabitants of Persia, can have no object in advancing which our light troops would have performed with great beyond your present limits, and the peace of all within them ease had we not been obliged to pass a most difficult ghaut, can be easily maintained and promoted, particularly with an which though not half a mile in length, detained our guns

increased openness and good understanding of our two nations five hours. After all, our damage does not exceed seven or

respecting their mutual interests in this part of Asia. eight horses and two or three tumbril wheels.

In considering this question I have never entered into

the irrational project of an invasion of India, because, what: The march up to Poonah was perhaps unparal- ever alarm men might endeavour to produce by talking of, leled in Indian warfare. The march into Poonah or even making preparation for, such an expedition, I have on its last day was superior to the movements of been always convinced that the obstacles were of a magnitude a numerous force even in Europe.

It had com

that must prevent its ever being carried into execution.

The actual state of the British power in India must baffle menced long before the sun, but five hours of the all predatory efforts, and before a regular and well supported day were lost, although they probably occurred at invasion could be attempted, a very lengthened line of those hours when men cannot travel in India. communication must be made through conntries which Poonah was saved.

are, generally speaking, either desolate, or inhabited by the During the exciting summer which followed the most rude and barbarous tribes of the nniverse. These, as

a part of this plan, must be civilised—no slight process; occupation of that city, Major Malcolm, although I and, after all, supposing an enormous sacrifice of wealth, and



the lives of Russian soldiers, they had brought their victorious quitted the country confined to these local manifestations. standards to Delhi—that they had, as was once proposed to The Governor-General bade him God speed from Calcuita, Bonaparte, “ Hanged the Mogulin his grandmother’s garters” and issued an order expressive of the high sense of the dis---what would they do next ? --where march? How would tinguished services of Sir John Malcolm entertained by the they manage the country ? Could they rely on the native Supreme Government. After referring generally to his long princes—all the turbulent tribes, whom their success had career of distinguished service, the Government passed the emancipated from the English rule? Can it ever occur to following eulogium on his conduct in Central India :-“By a any man in his senses that India is either worth conquer- happy combination of qualities, which could not fail to win ing, or can be preserved by any nation that does not the esteem and confidence both of his own countrymen and possess the superiority at sea ? But I will not insult your of the native inhabitants of all classes, by the unremitting good understanding by anything further upon this part of personal exertion and devotion of his time and labour to the the subject. Continental Europe must leave England to maintenance of the interests confided to his charge, and by subdne herself in the East before the invasion is con. an enviable talent for inspiring all who acted under his orders templated in anythiug but a pamphlet.

with his own energy and zeal, Sir John Malcolm has been Though a century or two mast elapse before the revolation enabled, in the successful performance of the duty assigned to which I have alluded happens, yet, if you and I live long, him in Malwah, 10 surmount difficulties of po ordinary we shall hear and see as much clashing of interests upon this stamp, and to lay the foundations of repose and prosperity in point as if it was a real and proximate danger. I have re- that extensive province, but recently reclaimed from a state ceived late letters from Persia stating that the King ha of savage anarchy, and a prey to every species of rapine and charged his ambassador in Engla to solicit my return; but devastation.” I have no such wish. To a flying mission I would not But even more acceptable to him than this public testiobject; but I want no residence there. I should like to go monial was one which came to him from the political officers home through Anssia, and, above all delight in seeing you who had worked under him in Central India. They raised a again. Make my kind remembrance to the friends who liberal subscription among themselves for the purchase of a recollect me.

magnificent silver vase, which was afterwards presented to

him in England. As a memorial of his labours in Central We apprehend that this letter was written in a India, and of the many loving friends associated with him in diplomatic spirit. Sir John Malcolm could not this good work, it was ever greatly valued by him, beyond, deceive the Russian into a belief in the unpro

as he said, anything he possessed. ductiveness of the Persian soil; for the Count « I shall view it with pride; and, when I am no more, my

" While I live,” he wrote, acknowledging the testimonial, Woronzoff had ample means of obtaining in children sholl have learnt to contemplate it as a trophy of formation. To his father, at Burnfoot, Sir Jobn friendship, which their father won by cherishing habits and Malcolm had previously written—" The climate of sentiments not unworthy of their emulation." this country is delightful. Had it the constitution And they might well be proud, not only of this trophy of of Great Britain , its inhabitants need not sigh for friendship

, but of the good work done in Central India

, Paradise. As it is, I would rather live on Douglan whom they delighted to recognise as their master no less

which had knit all these fellow.labourers together under one Hill.” It is curious how acute men deceive them than they renerated him as a friend. Years afterwards, one selves regarding constitutions. At that time, Mr. of these children, then a captain of dragoons, travelling Malcolm, of Burnfoot, to whom this letter was

through Malwalı, on his way to his regiment, met with the sent, bad, probably, no vote whatever in the

most touching proofs of the affection with which the memory

of his father's good deeds was held by the people of the management of the business of bis conntry. Scoto country. From all parts they came out to pay their respects land had then no ten-pounders even.

to the son of Sir John Malcolm, pouring benedictions upon The following extracts show the means by him for his father's sake, and loud in their expressions of which the great influence of the Malcolms in Indian gratitude to the friend to whom they owed so much. Many life was obtained and preserved :

able public servants have since then laboured in Central

India, but no name is so universally venerated as that of Sir The great secret of Malcolm's success was, that he was

John Malcolm. neither too native nor too European. He understood the This biography is an important contribution lo native character, and he could sympathise with the feelings Anglo-Indian history, although not the only of the native; but he never fell into vative habits. There were political officers at this time who, under the deteriorating one for which the country is indebted to its author. influences of isolation, sank into the very opposite estreme It is dffiicult to name a more interesting character of the Calcutta civilian school diere glanced at; and Malcolm in the same field than Sir John Malcolm, as a commented on this evil as one to be as much deplored as the diplomatic, literary, and military man; although other. It was by preserving the high tone and the pure combinations change so rapidly in India, that with life of the English gentleman, and yet carrying to his work

deno European prejudices, no cat-and-dried maxims of Euro- all his knowledge of character, he pean policy, to be applied however inapplicable toʻall cases ceived often, as in the contest with the Mahrattas, of native Government, that Malcolm achieved an amount of or when he wrote that our position towards Persia success, and acquired a reputation among the people of must always be defensive; and when he could not Central India such as no man before or since ever earned for foresee the extension of our empire to Kurrachee himself in that part of the world. When Bishop Heber, a few years afterwards, visited this tract of country, he wrote

and Peshawur, or tbe events which have rendered in his journal :—“How great must be the difficulties attendant the Indus as much an Anglo-Indian river, as was on power in these provinces, when, except Sir John Malcolm, the Gauges, when he first sailed up its waters, in I have heard of no one whom all parties agree in commend- a month, to Benares, from Calcutta, not dreaming ing. His talents, liis accessibility, liis firmness, his con

of the rapidly coming day, when political messenciliating manners, and admirable koowledge of the native language and character, are spoken of in the same terms gers will travel no more rapidly than ordinary by all.”

people, and yet pass between the cities in a single Nor were the tokens of respect amidst which Malcolm day.



Broken memories of many a heart

Woven into one.-Shelley.
When the hours of day are numbered,

And the voices of the night
Wake the better soul that slumbered,

To a holy, calm delight.

Then the forms of the departed

Enter at the open door;
The beloved, the true-hearted,

Come to visit me once more.

And with them the being beauteous,

Who unto my youth was given,
More than all things to love me,

And is now a saint in Hoaven.

And he, the young and strong, who cherished

Noble longings for the strife,
By the road-side fell and perished,
Weary with the march of life.---Longfellow.

It was eleven o'clock on a cold New Year's Eve never less alone. I have lived long years by -of what year is of little moment, and less myself, dear reader, and lonely men have queer interest—that I sat by the side of a bright log ideas touching loneliness. Loneliness to me and fire, in a dark, oak-wainscotted room, in a quaint, men like me is not solitude, any more than a throng iry-grown, Elizabethan manor house, in Kent, a is society. The first breeds thought--the second house, by-the-bye, bearing a somewhat “awesome" dispels those waking-dreams wherewithal we lonely reputation among the simple cottagers of our vil- men, in our silent chambers, by our gleaming lage, on account of the alleged nocturnal visita. hearths, wrap ourselves as with a cloak. A quiet tions of certain defunct gentlemen, ermined judges, room, with its adjuncts of a roaring fire and a gay light-o'-love cavaliers, and Tybalts of the first meerschaum charged with “right Varinas," is in water, whose portraits frown down on their nowise like the Balclutha of Ossian—it is in nounworthy descendant from these walls; moreover, wise desolate—its inmate can people it at will, by if credence can be given to the tedious holdings. the exercise of memory's high prerogative, with forth of a grej-haired housekeeper of ours, at sweet shadows trooping on from the past, or with winter conclaves round the fire of the servants' the stray hopes for the future, intensified almost hall, whenever the aforesaid ghostly visitants are into hale, material life. Ask the student, pale with pleased to favour the long, dreary, picture-hung many a vigil kept over high and holy thoughts, in rooms of this rambling old house with their pre- the hours " when night makes a weird sound of sence, there is always heard during the weird its own stillness," as he sits in his silent chamber, midnight hour, a sound as of unearthly whisper-whiling away the midnight in eager communion ings, and muttering voices, till the same worthy with the mighty minds of the intellectual Titans domestic, lying in her warm bed, with the counter —the mortal gods of a bygone time—as he sits pane drawn tightly over her excited organs of poring over his huge, dusty tomes, whence, as sense—ears, eyes, nose, and mouth-is half delirious though from their forgotten graves, the departed with the real or imagined horrors of such unbal. great he so reveres, being dead, yet speak to his lowed nights. How this may be, I know not, soul; ask such an one, of the high, pale brow, and and care as little. It is not on such ghostly pure, poet-heart, if bis mind is weary of his subjects that my mind loves to dwell. I was never solitude, or if that dimly-lighted chamber of his given to hobgoblin-cooking by the simple spell of is nothing but an unpeopled void. He is a recluse a morbid imagination. I have little inclination, -a pure-souled worker—an acolyte of perfectibiduring my constant listenings to the chimes at lity—but yet, oh gentlest of readers, that man, midnight, to conjure up chimeras from charnel and the many men of whom he is my chosen type, houses to sit opposite to me, as I recline in this is, and are in nowise solitary. Doth not imagina. snug arm-chair, with my meerschaum in my mouth, tion people his room with the ghost-like shadows and my feet on the fender. Yet I am by no means of the Aickering firelight, flitting stealthily along destitute of that faculty peculiar to men who live the dark, blank wall, with swarming phantasies much by or in themselves, whereby they can make which come and go, as unbidden visitants—as longthings past present, or can even grasp by expect regretted companions, leaving behind them lifeaucy, the cloudy future, till it unfolds its “ silver long memories as of the real, embodied presence lining” to the dreamer who calls memory and of an earthly friend ? imagination to his councils. Here I sat then-as I was then, that New Year's Eve, no longer the I am sitting now-silently, sorrowfully, lonely, yet listless ennuyé I had been all that day, as I strolled


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through dreary woods, over rustling leaves, over sweet in their very sadness, were the imaginings damp, misty meadows, startling the snipe away on that thronged that room with fancies delicate as whirring wing at every step I took; or on the Ariel. long, terraced walk, with no other companion than Again, the little meadow stretching greenly a compassionate robin who seemed the only “em away to the edge of the river where first I met bodied joy” of that deserted place, as he poured my lost love, was present to my mind—there once forth a sweetly-trilled song in the thankless ears of more she stood a palpable presence of beauty his “co-mate and brother in exile.” How gloomily before me, with that quiet, dreamy smile of hers had I hated that sweet singer in my selfish sorrow! that often led me to believe, in lover's fond how I refused to be comforted, resolutely.sulký reverence, that she was indeed but "present in ingrate as I was ! Seemed not then the blithe the body" while her soul was elsewhere and afar music of that morning song but as a mocking voice - wandering away among the white, floating from the past ? But at nightfall, by my own fire- clouds with the soaring lark, or catching glorious side, with memory for my Achates, I wandered glimpses of man's looked for hereafter at the back into the golden dream-land of a half-forgotten portals of Heaven. These fancies may be the past, now joying over early joys, now lamenting, in very "scum and lees of speculation” to clearer a strain half-sweet, half-sad, over early rrows. beads and colder bearts; I care not—though I Called up by memory, by a spell potent as hers of may never more on earth so vaguely conjecture, Endor, from the graves that Time delves for all still in Schiller's love-wise words-joys that would else make man too loath to leave this weary world, come, hand in hand, departed

Ich habe genossen das irdische glück,

Ich have gelebt und geliebet~ friends, the fresh, young feelings, the lofty, yet undefined aspirations of the past-beckoned from I have dreamed my dream—the world has struck afar, and brought by earnest, outlooking hope, to home with sorrow to my heart—I may dream it the fireside of the dreamer—into the thought- never more-I awake, and my cheek is wet with thronged present come imaginations, as yet tears. Is not memory stronger than the grave ? unenjoyed fulfilments, till the lonely one, keeping Again, my heart is beating, and my cheek is vigil over falling embers, is in the seventh hea- flushing as of old. If, as say the children of this ven" of dreamy bliss, being, even as he of whom world, wise in their generation, this was a lover's Paul spake, “in a trance, yet having his eyes frenzy—I would make answer that, if so, it was a open."

genial madness, a soul-purifying dream, which men, Aye, on that same wild, wintry New Year's who have dreamed it not, may contemu to their Eve, with the night wind making rude music as it own cold hearts as they will. I mentioned a while sighed through the swaying pine tops, or moaned ago a bygone New Year's Eve, because it was then through the leafless trees, I was no more alone that I first fell into waking dreams, and so I than you, reader, may be, when you sit around wished to have something definite to start from, " the bonnie, blithe, blink o your ain fireside," and something life-like to rest on, lest I be carried with your rosy-cheeked little ones playing at your helplessly away a bondsman into dream-land feet, and your life's love at your side, singing some altogether-of which I see my danger—yet can cheery ditty of her joyous girlhood. I think the hardly deplore such pleasant wandering now. For poet errs not when he imagines a room like this now the shadows of my fire are flickering once peopled by the forms of the departed entering more along that oaken wainscot, and I hie away to " at the open door" in angel guise, a holy presence the past. Am I dreaming, or is not my dead felt solemnly, though to the fleshly eye unseen. Helen's voice pleading softly against man's wilful.

Most of us bave two minds, the children, so to ness, again ringing in my ear, sweet as speak, of opposite influences--the hard, material, unforgotten July evening, when for a few light working-day spirit, and the purer, memory-softened, words spoken in merry jest, accepted in blind, mildly speculative. Most of us have lost dear bitter earnest, we two parted never again to meet ! friends; and to most of us, I trust, God in our Such were the thoughts of that New Year's solitude sends dreamy glimpses of them, or, at Eve ; such are my thoughts now. Surely a quiet least, ministering memories, fraught with a quiet night like this should be hallowed to me by angel sadness too pure for sorrow. By day, when the visits, by the compassionate spirit of her wlio is turmoil of the busy world without crushes all those now a saint with God. gentle fancies, we may think unkindly of the past, I see again—alas! that it should be but faintly despising its teachings, sneering callously at our and as through a mist of tears—the white gate better mind and former selves--but at nightfall, swinging on its hinges heavily, creaking in the when we have closely drawn the rustling cur- wind as she passes through, with a scarlet flush on tains and given up our souls unresistingly to her fair face, leaving me to pride's vain regrets for the influences of time and place, we live again evermore.

.. Well, as with the another and a truer life. The past is then present slumber sealed, spirit-opened eye of one in sleep, to us—we smile and sigh in quiet alteruations, till I see her now, walking slowly, with downcast the Marah of our worldliness is forgotten in a eyes, through the long grass, damp with evening childlike, abstracted simplicity of soul. Many, dew, through the old church yard, to the little

on that

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grave with its white headstone in strong relief

CHAPTER II. against the twilight sky, where her mother sleeps

Mine eyes dazzle-She died young. in death. Reader-if I be a dreamy egotist, a babbler of the past, bear with me ; such things

i think not so-his infelicity

Seemed to have years too many. have been, or may be, in your life. Is a lost love

Webster's Duchess of Melfi.a mere fancy ? Is memory a liar ! Has remorse no sting? Alas! we parted in anger, and met I have replenished my mcerschaum as the night never more

wears on apace-I could not sleep-so I will pile

more logs upon my tire, and then fall to memories For life is thorny, youth is vain,

of the past once more. The smoke-rings curl And to be wroth with one we love Doth work like madness on the brain.

gracefully away—"a smoke-wreath wasted side

ways," to speak after the manner of “Hiawatha”Pride will not stoop, though young love lie bleed. the smoke-rings, the time, the place, conspire to ing. Let grief be love's Nemesis on pride! So remind me of a dead friend " gifted, yet most we parted ; so in tbis room to-night, do I now in unfortunate.” Many a year ago, sitting by this imagination, renew that parting—not in anger, but hearth side, talked I through the night with him with hot tears glistening in my eyes.

There, on whose mellow voice is now silent for ever. We bearth lies a half-decayed ember, there a jagged, had been happy children together--nurtured on gleaming, fantastic cinder. Fancy las a witchcraft the same hill side, school friends, college chums, of her own—let Fancy speak. Now to me that is inseparable on river, cricket ground, and field; as not a common ember ; that is not a mere charred boys we clomb the same trees, dabbled in the same fragment of a faggot. These respectively symbo. brook-angled for long hours together, with casts lisé an old church and a lowly grave. In that of flies round our bats and “Izaak Walton” in our church I prayed, a happy child, at my love's side ; pockets—or strolled arm in arm over dreary heath in that church I learned that peace the world land, poring over Cicero's "De Amicitiâ” whose cannot give nor take away—and by that church theory agreed so well with our loving practice. wall I hope to sleep, when life is over, and calmly Long ago, walked I across those fields, now dark Resteth my unquiet heart

and dreary under a clouded moon, with him who Under the quiet daisies.

was to me the dearest of childhood's second selves.

I have no such friend now. How often on that Men say I am an aimless dreamer-men mock me terrace, where now I hear nothing but the rustling and my day-dreams-of a truth they are something of leaves dancing over damp gravel, and the song better than mere hollow seemings, for there lurks of the night wind through the evergreens, have a spell in my vicinity this night which drags me

we two, in the pleasant summer twilight, strolled away, as it were by the heart-strings, to my dead lovingly in joyous converse, when Youth, life's love's lowly grave. There, beneath the daisies and

veritable alchemist, could transmute in Hope's harebells of summer, lies that gentle heart-never magic crucible all the unpleasant realities of school shall love, outraged by mad jealousy, wounded by and idle fancies of leisure into joy! That power bitter scorn, bring one flush more on that cold, leaves us with boyhood for the most part; we pale cheek.

indeed toil, wander widely for materials to fill In my well-worn, half-open escritoire, lies a Hope's crucible withal, we sublime them- and the paper of rose leaves, which she plucked long ago result isbut an aching heart, and a caput morfor me, withered like my hopes. I will carry tuum ! these dead leaflets and strew them to-morrow upon Then the simple sense of strorg, young life was

of itself enough to flood our pulses with a joy unutterable; then-alas! that Nature's face

should now, as then, be as lovingly upturned to Bat the poet teaches a high and holy truth when win my love, yet half in vair-a summer evening, he sings, in love's wisdom wise,

with its golden mists floating lazily over our glim"Tis better to have loved and lost,

mering river, with the coots diving merrily under Than never to have loved at all.

the willow's drooping boughs, was more to us

than summer evenings can be to me now. Who knows but that the All-Merciful, looking They were to us emphatically what Byron said down in pity on his sorrowing children here, sends ' high mountains” were to him—"a feeling;" memory unto them as a Paraclete ?

and that was not less vivid because of my utter The embers are falling—their sound grates on inability to paint it, now it is dead, in cold wordthis reverie— let me crush all bitter memories, and pictures like these. The fantastic banks of sunlit pay one more mental pilgrimage to that dead clouds were to us something more than mere gross

exhalations of the marsh near home. They were the enchanted palaces wherein our Aladdin-like fancies disported—the treasure house whence we could filch mistily-pleasant thoughts, miniature Edens, with bright reflections of the joys of Satur

her grave.

maiden's grave.

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