The work which John Lawrence had heretofore done in India is not of that sort which should be measured statistically. Its material proportions had been indeed considerable, but they were infinitely exceeded by its moral effect. Still some few comparative facts may be noted to show what his new sphere was compared with his old. The Punjab with its dependencies contained, when he left it in 1859, one hundred and forty-five thousand square miles, with twenty-two millions of inhabitants, and paid an annual revenue of two and a half millions sterling. It had been augmented, since its first formation as a British province, by the addition of the Delhi territory. The Indian empire, when he took charge of it in 1864, contained one million three hundred thousand square miles with two hundred and thirty-five millions of inhabitants, paid an annual revenue of fifty-three millions sterling, was defended by an army of nearly two hundred thousand men, including both European and Native troops, and was divided into eleven provincial governments or administrations, under two Governors, three Lieutenant-Governors, three Chief Commissioners, and three Residencies or Governor-General’s Agencies.

In January, 1864, Lawrence arrived at Calcutta as Viceroy and Governor-General. He looked much brightened and freshened by a sojourn of four and a half years in England. His old vivacity sparkled again; he had been softened as well as brightened by his sojourn in England. He walked with a stride, and his seat in the saddle was almost as of yore. His health had been temporarily restored, but had not, as the sequel showed, been re-established.

Usually a new Viceroy and Governor-General is, on landing in India, really new in every sense. The European officers, the Native Princes, Chiefs and people, are strangers to him as he is personally unknown to them. Yet he has great power and wide influence, not only over individuals, but also over large classes and masses, and his personality will for a term of years affect the conduct of the executive and the course of legislation. Consequently when he comes, public expectation is on the tiptoe, and the public gaze is strained to discover what manner of man he may be. It is hard to describe adequately the anxious uncertainty which prevails, and consequently the intensity of the interest which is thus aroused in most instances. But in the instance of Lawrence there was no such novelty. His name was already a household word from one end of the empire to the other. To all men his character, disposition and idiosyncrasy were known by fame, and to numerous individuals, even to many classes, were familiar. Again, other Governors-General arriving in India have been obliged to go to school politically, and almost serve an apprenticeship; but he was already a master workman, and could enter fully and at once upon his whole duty.

As Governor-General he had all the power entrusted to that high functionary by the Acts of Parliament settling the Constitution of British India. As Viceroy he represented the Sovereign on all occasions.

On his arrival at Calcutta he was greeted most cordially by all classes of his countrymen, from the soldiers and sailors upwards. Loud was the chorus of British voices, thick was the concourse of Natives, as the stately vessel, bearing him as its freight, steamed up the broad reaches of the tidal Hooghly, between banks crowned with groves of the cocoa-nut, the palm and the bamboo, approached the forest of masts in the harbour of the Indian capital, and anchored near the ramparts of Fort William, close to the palace of the Governor-General.

Landing in Bengal, he met that section of the Indian population which had but little direct concern in the War of the Mutinies, and was therefore less cognisant of his deeds than the Natives of Northern India; still the Bengalis in their way strove to do him honour. His first levÉe was one of the most numerously attended levÉes ever held in Calcutta. He was full of alacrity, and if ever in his life he wore a smiling aspect it was then. Things had heretofore gone well with him in the estimation of all men East and West. The farewell addresses on leaving the Punjab, the addresses of welcome on reaching England, the congratulations at home on his new appointment, the notes of gladness on his return to India, were all present to his mind, and he was breathing the popularis aura. Few men, climbing to estate so high as his, have known so little of ungenerous objections or of actual misrepresentation, as he had up to this time. He was hardly prepared, perhaps, for the fitful moods of public opinion in such a country as India, for the wearing anxieties, the lesser troubles, even the annoyances, to be endured at intervals for some years before the moment when he should lay down the supreme power, and again look back with some pride and satisfaction upon another arduous stage accomplished in life’s journey.

He came by the overland route in December at the most favourable season of the year and escaped sea-sickness. As sea life was never quite suitable to his temperament, he did not read nor write much during the voyage, but he must have had time to arrange his thoughts respecting the imperial charge which had been committed to him. As a rule, he meant to deal with matters as they should arise—knowing that these would be numerous, and confident in his own power to dispose of them—rather than to shape out any policy or policies in his mind, or to descry any particular goal which he would strive to reach. Nevertheless he landed in India with certain ideas which might, according to his hope, be realised. As they are quite characteristic of him, some allusion may be here made to them.

During his sojourn in England he had been much impressed with the importance of sanitation or sanitary administration, as likely to become the pressing question of the immediate future. The insanitary condition of Indian cities had affected him in his younger days, and in later years his letters contain allusions to the subject. But something more than spasmodic effort was needed for that rectification which he would now make an imperial concern. To stimulate his recollections he would direct his morning rides to the unhealthiest parts of Calcutta, and one of his first measures after assuming the general government was to appoint a Sanitary Commission.

But the principle of sanitation had in his mind a special application. He appears while in England to have been conferring with Florence Nightingale regarding military hospitals and the health of the European soldiery. Here, again, as a young man, he had grieved over the intemperance existing among these troops, and partly attributable to injudicious regulations which had been subsequently modified. The War of the Mutinies had brought home to his mind, with greater force than ever, the supreme value of these men to the Eastern empire. He then set himself to observe their barracks, and especially their hospitals, which he used to visit in times of epidemic sickness. He would now use all his might as Governor-General to give them spacious and salubrious barracks, suitable means for recreation, and other resources for the improvement of their condition.

In former years he had witnessed the effects of drought upon districts destitute of artificial irrigation; and it was notorious that drought is the recurring plague not only of the continental climate of Mid-India, as physical geographers term it, but also of the southern peninsula. He had seen the inception of the Ganges canal, the queen of all canals ever undertaken in any age or country; and he would now stimulate the planning and executing of irrigation works great and small.

For this, however, capital was needed, so his financial instinct warned him that the Government of India must cease constructing these necessary works out of revenue—a tardy and precarious process—but must open a capital account for the nation, whereby India might borrow money for reproductive works, on the principle which prevails in all progressive countries.

Lastly, he had while in England reconsidered the principle of what is known as the Permanent Settlement of Bengal, which was much disapproved by the administrative school of his earlier days. He had now come to think that this Settlement possessed much political advantage, in strengthening the basis of landed prosperity, and thus attaching all landowners to the British Government; and so far he was actually prepared to extend it to some other districts beyond Bengal. But he was as keenly alive as ever to its imperfections, as it had neglected the rights of subordinate occupiers. He looked back with thankfulness upon the efforts which had been made in North-western India to preserve these rights. Having some fear that they might in certain circumstances be overridden, he resolved to champion them when necessary. This resolve brought about some trying episodes in his subsequent career.

Thus there were at least five large matters of imperial policy arranged in his mind from the very outset as he set foot once again on the Indian shore. The public sanitation, the physical welfare of the European soldiery, the prevention of famine by irrigation works, the capital account of the national outlay for material improvement, the settlement of agrarian affairs,—these were principles long fixed in his mind. But his conception of them had been widened or elevated by his sojourn in England, and by the fresh influences of political thought there.

From the beginning of January to the middle of April he worked, with his Executive Council, at Government House in Calcutta. The Councillors were five in number for the several departments, Foreign, Home, Legislative, Public Works, Financial, Revenue, Military; and in addition the Commander-in-Chief of the army. In ordinary matters the decision of the Government was formed by a majority of votes; but in matters of public safety he had power to act on his own authority alone. He was able to maintain excellent relations with his colleagues in Council. The Foreign Department was ordinarily kept in his own hands. He worked from six o’clock in the morning till five in the evening daily, despatching current business in all departments with amazing promptitude and completeness withal. He issued the necessary orders on the speedy and successful termination of the military operations on the Trans-Indus Frontier, which have been already mentioned. He reviewed Volunteers, founded a Sailors’ Home, inspected sanitation in the Native city, and made the acquaintance of all important persons of every nationality in the capital. His health stood the new test fairly well, but he suffered at times from headache. In the middle of April he started for Simla, taking his Council with him. On his way thither he revisited the Asylum for the orphan children of European soldiers at the Himalayan station of Kassowli, founded with much private munificence by his brother Henry. He had not seen this beautiful Simla since he met Lord Dalhousie there in 1851. Though he said little, he pondered much on all that had happened to him and his since then, the perils escaped, the victories won.

After his arrival at Simla having reviewed his own position and prospects, he wrote to Sir Charles Wood, the Secretary of State in London, on this subject. He said explicitly that he found himself unable to work all the year round at Calcutta, and especially in the hot and unhealthy season there; that if he were allowed to spend the summer months in the Himalayas, he could retain his post; otherwise he wished to resign in the spring of the following year and return to England. By Sir Charles Wood’s reply he was requested to stay in office, with the understanding that he might reside wherever he chose within the Himalayas or other hill-regions of India. Regarding his Council the reply was not quite so clear, but in the end it was virtually conceded that he might exercise his own discretion in taking his colleagues with him. At all events he determined to stay for four out of his five allotted years in India, and arranged that his wife should join him at Calcutta by the end of the year 1864.

He soon decided that during his tenure of office the Government of India shall, barring unforeseen events, spend the summer months at Simla, that is the Governor-General, the Executive Council, a part of the Legislative Council, and the principal Secretaries. He would not separate himself from them: he did not wish to have them acting at headquarters in many cases without him; nor did he desire to act in some cases alone without them. He thought it better that, with the growing increase of business, they should be all together.

At that time it was the fashion to propose various situations in the empire, one in the south another in the west and so on, for the permanent capital and headquarters of the Government of India, involving the abandonment of Calcutta for this purpose; but he objected to all such schemes, considering them to be crude. In the first place, such a move would be inordinately expensive; in the second, Calcutta was, he thought, the best of all available positions. Though it is actually a sea-port, yet its position is by nature rendered unassailable by an attack from the sea; its trade places it in the first rank of mercantile cities; the districts around it are wealthy, fertile, populous and peaceful; these advantages he duly appreciated. During the disturbances of 1857 he remembered that Lower Bengal around Calcutta was undisturbed, and paid its tens of millions of rupees into the State Treasury, and that while half the empire was convulsed, order was preserved at the imperial centre. Thus he would hold fast to Calcutta and settle his Government there, at least during the cool season of each year when trade and industry are in their fullest activity.

But he would have his Government sojourn during the hot weather of each year in the refreshing climate of the Himalayas. He had no hesitation in choosing Simla for this purpose, as being the only mountain station that could furnish house-accommodation for the influx of sojourners; as being easily accessible by rail and road at all seasons; as having politically a good position sufficiently near the North-western Frontier, yet not so near as to be within reach of danger; and as being immediately surrounded by a peaceful population. He was sensible of the natural beauty, the varied charms, the salubrious climate of the place, and his choice has been fully ratified by the Governors-General who have succeeded him.

His Government, while sojourning at Simla, would transact all its administrative business for the time, and proceed with some parts of its legislation. But he would reserve for its residence at Calcutta all those bills or projects of law which might be of general importance, and wherein contact with public opinion might be specially desirable.

He was now by the autumn of 1864, fairly launched on his career as Viceroy and Governor-General. His health had been slightly shaken by the change from England to Calcutta, of which the climate agreed with him less than that of any other place in India. But it soon revived in the Himalayan air. He kept up his early riding in the morning while at Calcutta, but was induced by the pressure of business to intermit it at Simla. However he took exercise in the afternoon fully, and so during this year and 1865 he remained fairly well; indeed during the summer of 1865 he was better than he had been for many years, that is since his Trans-Sutlej days. But he was not so well in 1866, and in the summer of 1867 he intimated to the Secretary of State, who was then Sir Stafford Northcote, that he might have to retire early in 1868 having completed his four years. The Secretary of State, however, on public grounds requested him to remain till the end of his five years if possible, that is till the beginning of 1869. So he braced his determination to remain his allotted term. He said in private that it would be a great satisfaction to him to serve out his time, and to hand over the work to his successor without any arrears. From 1867, however, he became weaker physically by slow, perhaps by imperceptible degrees, and that general condition naturally set up lesser ailments from time to time; while the clear brain and the unconquerable will remained.

Apprehensions of ill health, however, were not the only reason why he thought in 1867 of resigning office. He was indeed as good, efficient and successful a Viceroy and Governor-General as India ever had; still the course of affairs did not exactly suit his masterful genius. Grand events would have afforded scope for the mighty capacity he was conscious of possessing. The country was for the most part at peace, nevertheless he was troubled even harassed by divers incidents which affected the public interests. The empire was making steady progress under his care and recovering its stability after a severe convulsion; yet mishaps, reverses, plagues of all sorts, would occur through no fault of his. But he would not relieve himself of responsibility for what might be amiss or go wrong in any part of his vast charge, and often he was tempted to exclaim,

Hitherto the popularis aura had been with him; he had not yet felt that chilling blast of unpopularity which sooner or later never fails to overtake public men of mark and vigour such as his. No man had known less than he the carping, the cavilling, the captiousness of critics, or the misrepresentation of opponents. He had never swam with the stream, but rather had cut out a channel for the stream and made it flow with him. Thus the wear and tear of his former life had arisen from notable causes, but not from the friction of an adverse current. Now, however, he was to taste of all these small adversities. He was indeed to rule an empire thoroughly well in ordinary times, and to suffer the vexations which ordinarily beset rulers and make their heads “lie uneasy.” He strove manfully to hide his sensitiveness when attacked or impugned; for all that, he was more sensitive to these attacks than he need have been, in regard to their intrinsic deserts. The deference, the cordiality, even the affection (as he himself gratefully described it) of the reception which greeted him in England, and which was repeated on his first landing in India, had scarcely prepared him for the provocations, petty indeed but yet sharp, which awaited him in the subsequent years. As a man of action he had been used to arguments of an acute even fierce character, yet they were short and decisive either for or against him. But now he had to work his government through an Executive Council of some six members, in which the discussions were partly on paper daily, and partly by word of mouth at weekly meetings. The paper-controversies he could bear; if he had a majority on his side the decision would be couched in a few of his pithy sentences and no more was heard of it. But at times the weekly debates tried him sorely; he listened like patience on a monument, but he sighed inwardly. India being unavoidably a land of personal changes, the composition of his Council varied from year to year with outgoing and incoming men. In the nature of things it was inevitable that some of his colleagues should support him more and others less, while some opposed. He rejoiced in the hearty aid afforded by some, and grieved over the opposition, or as it appeared to him the thwarting, counteracting conduct of others, which was different from anything that he had previously endured. Again, he thankfully acknowledged in the end the support he received from successive Secretaries of State in England, and certainly the Government in England sincerely desired to sustain his authority; but meanwhile cases occurred wherein he considered himself insufficiently supported from home, and one case where even his old friends in the Council of India in Whitehall counteracted his wishes. Respecting the action of Secretaries of State he hardly made sufficient allowance for Parliamentary difficulties, which prevent the men who are nominally in power from being their own masters. It has been acutely remarked of him that he was not versatile; in truth versatility in the face of opposition was not among his qualities. He hardly possessed that peculiar resourcefulness (for which, for instance, the great Warren Hastings was distinguished) whereby one expedient having failed or one way being stopped, another is found, perhaps circuitously, the goal being all the while kept in view. Being human he must needs have faults, though the proportion which these bore to his virtues was small indeed; he certainly had a tendency to chafe over-much, yet if this be a fault, then owing to his self-command, it affected himself only but not others. He loved power, indeed, which he habitually described in a favourite Persian phrase as khÛd-raftÂri, which is an elegant synonym for having one’s own way. Such power was, in his estimation, to be wielded not capriciously but under the constraint of a well-informed conscience. He had scarcely thought out the fact, however, that in few modern nations, and least of all in the British, can there be such a thing strictly speaking as power, though there may be powerful influence. For the jealously-watched and tightly-bound “thing which is mocked by the name of power,” he had scant appreciation. In short, his position presented much that was novel rather than pleasant, though he encountered less of novelty than any Governor-General who had preceded him. But it is well in passing to sketch these lesser traits, for the portraiture of the real man in all his greatness and goodness.

To give an account of his Government at large, would be to write the history of an empire during five years, and space cannot here be afforded for such a task. Again, to do justice to all the coadjutors who helped him, would be to set forth at least parts of the careers of many eminent men, and that, too, is beyond the limits of this work. All that is possible, then, is to analyse or sum up briefly the main heads of his policy and achievements, with the proviso that, what for the sake of brevity is attributed to him nominally, is really attributable to him with the Councils, both Executive and Legislative, the extensive Secretariat, the Presidencies, and the provincial Governors or Administrators. These heads may be arranged in the following order:—the army, the works of material improvement, the sanitation, the finances, the landed settlement, the legislation, the public service, the national education, the state ceremonies, the foreign policy; and to each of them, as respecting him particularly, a short notice will be afforded.

In the military branch, he had not much to do with the reorganisation of the army for India. That had been done during the interval since his departure from India in 1859. Some changes had been made, against which he had protested from his place in Council at Whitehall, but now he had loyally to accept the accomplished facts, and to make the changes work well through good management. Keeping his eye ever fixed on the national finance, he rejoiced to find the Native Army reduced in numbers, and the overgrown levies (which had been raised during the War of the Mutinies) now disbanded throughout the country or transferred to the newly-organised Police. The strength of the European troops varied from seventy to seventy-five thousand men: which was, in his judgment, the minimum compatible with safety in time of peace. He never forgot what his Native advisers used to drop into his ear during the Mutiny—namely this, that in India the European soldier is the root of our power. Knowing how hard it would be for the English Government to provide, and for the Indian Government to bear, the cost of a larger number, he bent himself to make the European soldiery as effective as possible by improving their life and lot in the East. Everything that pertained to their health, recreation, comfort, enlightenment, employment in leisure time, and general welfare, moral or physical, he steadfastly supported. At the basis of all these improvements lay the question of constructing new barracks or re-constructing old buildings, on reformed principles sanitary as well as architectural; and for this he was prepared to incur an outlay of several millions sterling. Protracted discussions ensued in his Executive Council in regard to the situations for the new barracks, causing delay which distressed him. He insisted that the buildings should be placed in those centres of population, and those strategic points, where old experience had shown that the presence of European soldiers was necessary. So after a while the work of barrack-building went on to his satisfaction. Criticism, even objections, were soon levelled against these operations, and the barracks were styled “palatial,” under the notion that they were extravagantly good; but he was not thereby at all turned from his purpose.

In active warfare operations were undertaken near the Trans-Indus Frontier on two occasions; the first of these, which has already been mentioned at the moment of his arrival in India, was known by the name of Umbeyla, the second was remembered as that of the Black Mountain. Otherwise he thankfully observed the pacification of that difficult Frontier, which had successfully been effected by the policy of himself and his brother from 1849 onwards, as set forth in a previous chapter. One little war, indeed, he had which was from first to last hateful to him, but which he turned to excellent account for British interests, as the event has subsequently proved; this is known to history as the BhÛtan campaign. On his arrival he found that a mission had been already despatched to that semi-barbarous principality in the eastern Himalayas over-looking Bengal, and that the British envoy had been insulted and even maltreated. Redress was demanded, and this being refused, he had resort to arms; and during the course of these operations in a wild, wooded, malarious and mountainous country, a small British force in a hill-fort was cut off from its water-supply by the enemy’s devices, and had to beat a somewhat disastrous retreat. The disaster was soon retrieved by the recapture of the place, and full preparations were made for a decisive advance when the enemy sued for terms; whereon he laid down the British conditions of peace. These being accepted, he was glad to save the lives of a miserable foe from destruction, and the British troops from inglorious warfare in an unhealthy country. The main point in the conditions on which he concluded peace was the cession by BhÛtan to the British of a rich sub-Himalayan tract called the DÛars, on his agreeing to pay a certain sum annually to the BhÛtanese. He felt the value of this tract to the British, as was indeed manifest then, and has been proved by subsequent experience. He knew that the payment of this small subsidy would just preserve the BhÛtanese from that pecuniary desperation which leads to border incursions, and would give us a hold on them, as it could be withheld in event of their misconduct in future; and in fact they have behaved well ever since. But the terms were by the European community at Calcutta deemed inadequate and derogatory after all that had happened; and he was subjected to much severe criticism, which however did not move, though it doubtless grieved, him at this stage of his career.

He rejoiced in the opportunity afforded by the expedition to Abyssinia for helping his old friend Napier to collect an effective force from India, to be equipped for very active service and to be despatched from the Presidency of Bombay.

In respect to material improvement, he pressed onwards the construction of railways and canals. There had been by no means an entire, but only a partial, suspension of these works during the War of the Mutinies, and the period of disturbance which followed; but now as peace reigned throughout the land, he prosecuted these beneficent operations with more energy than ever, and at no previous time in Indian history had progress been so systematised as now. This could only be done by establishing a capital account for the State, according to the principle which, as already mentioned, had been working in his mind when he recently landed in India. The cost of these works having heretofore been defrayed from current revenue, their progress had been precarious, but he would place their finance on a sure basis by treating the expenditure as capital outlay and raising loans for that purpose. The interest on these would be defrayed from current revenue, as he would have no such thing as paying interest out of capital. For the due calculation of the demand to be made on the money-market for the loans, he caused a forecast to be made of the canals and railways recommended for construction during a cycle of years. He proposed that the future railways should be constructed not by private companies with guarantee by the State of interest on outlay, but by the State itself. With a view to lessening the capital outlay in future, he leaned towards the introduction of a narrower gauge than that heretofore in use. The introduction of the capital account into Indian finance has not only stimulated, but also regulated and ensured the material development of the empire; and this is a prominent feature in his administration.

Besides the ordinary arguments for accelerating the construction of railways, there was the necessity of perfecting our military communications, in order to obtain a tighter grasp of the country than heretofore. The lesson of 1857-8 had taught him how much this hold had needed strengthening. Again, beyond the usual reasons for excavating canals of irrigation for agriculture in a thirsty land, he felt the obligation to protect the people from the consequences of drought. No warning, indeed, was required by him in this behalf, otherwise it would have been furnished by the experience of the Orissa famine in 1866-7. In that somewhat inaccessible province the drought occurred one year and the people bore it, but it continued during the second and even the third year, reducing their straitened resources to starvation point; then towards the end of the third year heavy downpours of rain caused inundation to submerge the remnant of the crops; thus, in his own expressive words, “that which the drought spared the floods drowned.” He had been very uneasy about the prospect of the famine, but the province was under the Government of Bengal subject to the control of the Governor-General, and he was bound to consult the local authorities. He accepted for the moment the assurance of the Lieutenant-Governor of Bengal, who had proceeded to the spot to make personal inquiries, to the effect that the precautions taken to prevent mortality from famine were sufficient. Still he remained anxious till further tidings came, and these were bad. Then he caused the most strenuous efforts to be put forth but they were too late to save life, and their efficacy was impaired by a still further misfortune, because contrary gales kept grain-laden ships tossing about within sight of the shore and unable to land their cargoes. Though he was not to blame in all the circumstances, still this disaster cut him to the quick, and he fretted at the thought of what might have been done to save life had he himself been wielding the executive powers locally as in former days, instead of exercising only a general control as Governor-General. The loss being irreparable, all he could now do was to make the strictest inquisition regarding the failure in foresight which delayed the relief in the first instance, to take additional precautions by the light of this melancholy experience, and so to prevent the possibility of its recurrence. Thus under him from that time a new era of development, and especially of canal-making arose happily for Orissa.

For sanitation, he acted on the view which had opened out before him on his way from England for India. The Sanitary Commission appointed by him made searching inquiries and followed these up with suggestions professional or practical. He sanctioned expenditure by Government on drainage, water-supply, open spaces, and the like, in the stations or around the buildings which belonged to the State. In all the places which were made under municipal institutions he encouraged the local corporations to do the same. Through his precept or example a fresh impulse was given to these beneficent works at every capital city, industrial centre, or considerable town, throughout the Bengal Presidency—more than half the empire—and a general quickening of municipal life was the consequence. His influence could not under the constitution of British India be equally direct in the Madras and Bombay Presidencies but there also it was felt as a practical encouragement. Thus though he may not be called the originator of Indian Sanitation, yet he was the founder of it on a systematic basis, and he established it as a department of the State administration.

The finances caused him trouble from the first even to the last day of his incumbency. The scheme for housing and lodging the European army in India, according to humane and civilised plans, was to cost ten millions sterling (for, say, seventy-five thousand men), and out of that he caused five millions to be spent during his five years of office. He was most unwilling to borrow for this purpose, holding firmly that the charge must be defrayed from current revenues, and so it was. But then it caused some difficulty in the finances, and he had to devise additional means for making the income balance the expenses. Always having a heart for the poor, and believing that their resources were not at all elastic, he was resolved to avoid taxing the masses of the population any further. On the other hand he thought that the rich escaped paying their full share. So he proposed to renew the income tax, which had been introduced in 1860 by James Wilson (the economist and financier sent out from England) and remitted in 1862. He was unable to obtain, however, the necessary concurrence of his Council. Then he reluctantly consented to a proposal of the Council that duties should be imposed on certain articles of export which, in the economic circumstances of the moment, were able to bear the impost. The ordinary objection to export-duties was urged in England and even in Parliament, so these were disallowed by the Secretary of State; and thus he suffered a double annoyance. His own proposal had been refused by his Council, and their proposal, to which he agreed as a choice of evils, had been rejected by the Secretary of State. The following year he induced his Council to accept a modified income-tax, under the name of a License-Tax. This was, he knew, inferior to a scientific income-tax, inasmuch as it failed in touching all the rich; still it did touch the well-to-do middle class, heretofore almost exempt from taxation, and that was something. This plan was passed into law by the Legislative Council at Calcutta, but the passage met with embittered opposition from outside in the European as well as in the Native Community; he stood firm, however, and this time was supported both by his Council in India and by the Secretary of State in England. But he knew that this measure, though much better than nothing, was insufficient, and he ceased not from urging the imposition of the income-tax proper. Indeed during his fifth and last year he laid the foundation and prepared the way for that tax, which was actually imposed after his departure, and which during several succeeding years saved the finances from ultimate deficit.

During his five years, however, there were five and a quarter millions sterling of deficit, and two and three quarter millions of surplus, leaving a net deficit of two and a half millions. This deficit was, indeed, more than accounted for by the expenses of five millions on the barracks; but it would never have occurred, had he been properly supported in the sound fiscal measures proposed by him. The financial result in the end, though fully capable of explanation, did indeed fall short of complete success; but this partial failure did not at all arise from any fault of his. Indeed it occurred despite his well-directed exertions. He left India with somewhat gloomy anticipations regarding its financial future. He feared lest his countrymen should fail to appreciate the standing difficulty of Indian finance. He knew that the Natives may have more means relatively to their simple wants than the corresponding classes in European countries, and in that sense may not be poor. But he thought that their power of paying revenue down in cash was very small according to a European standard, and that their fiscal resources were singularly inelastic.

In connection with finance he was much troubled by the failure of the Bank of Bombay. On his arrival in India the American Civil War, then at its height, was causing a rapid rise in the value of cotton in Western India, and an excessive speculation in consequence. On the cessation of the war in 1865 he saw this speculation collapse, and became anxious for the fate of the Bank of Bombay which was a State institution. He did his utmost to guide and assist the Government of Bombay in preventing a catastrophe. But despite his efforts the Bank fell, and its fall was keenly discussed in England generally and in the House of Commons. Then a commission of inquiry was appointed, which after complete investigation remarked upon the steadiness and carefulness displayed by him at least, while it distributed blame among several authorities.

Much was done in his time, more than ever before, for legislation. He took a lively interest in the proceedings of the Legislative Council for India; it consisted of some thirteen members, of whom six belonged to the Executive Council, and seven, partly official and partly non-official, were nominated by the Governor-General; and it was apart from the local legislatures of Bengal, Madras, and Bombay. He assiduously presided over its deliberations, which at that time embraced such important matters as civil and criminal procedure, transfer of property, contract, evidence, negotiable securities, and others. During no period of Indian history has legislation of a fundamental, and, so to speak, scientific character been more remarkably advanced than during his incumbency of five years. He was throughout assisted by English Jurists in England, and in India especially.

In one legislative measure he was able to take a strong part personally, and that was the Punjab Tenancy Act. It appeared to him that in various ways the rights secured (by the land settlement in that Province as already mentioned) to certain classes of cultivators, as separate from peasant proprietors, were being gravely threatened. So he procured the passing of a law for the preservation of the rights and interests in these numerous tenancies under legal definitions.

Cognate to this subject, a question arose in Oude regarding tenant-right, in which he acted with decisive effect. While anxious that the landed aristocracy (styled the Talukdars) in this Province should be maintained in the position ultimately guaranteed to them by Lord Canning in 1859, he was equally resolved that the subordinate rights of occupants and cultivators should be protected. He, in common with others, believed that their rights had been secured simultaneously with those of the Talukdars. But during the subsequent five years this security had, he found, been disturbed, and further measures were needed for protection. He therefore caused these tenant-rights or occupancy tenures to be protected by additional safeguards, which have since been embodied in legislative enactments. These measures of his aroused keen opposition in Northern and North-eastern India, and especially in Calcutta, as the landlord interest in Bengal made common cause with the Talukdars of Oude. Thus much invective was levelled at him by the Anglo-Indian newspaper-press. Then the agitation began to spread from India to England: the influential few could make their cry heard across the seas, the voiceless million could not; that was all the greater reason why he would take care of the million. He held that the question was one of justice or injustice towards a deserving and industrious class of British subjects. His mind, however, was exercised by this controversy in India mainly because he apprehended that the ground of argumentative battle might be shifted to England, and perhaps even to the floor of the House of Commons. Though he fully hoped that the then Secretary of State, Sir Charles Wood, and the Cabinet would support him, yet he was prepared, indeed almost determined, to give up his high office if his policy in Oude should fail to be sustained. He used to say to his intimate friends at the time that he would stand or resign upon his policy in Oude. This is borne out by a letter of his to Sir Charles Wood which has since been published by his biographer, and from which a characteristic passage may be quoted.

“What could make me take the course I have done in favour of the Ryots of Oude, but a strong sense of duty? I understand the question right well, as indeed must every man who has had anything to do with settlement-work. I have no wish to harm the Talukdars. On the contrary, I desire to see fair-play to their interests.... It would be a suicidal act for me to come forward and modify the instructions given recently. The Home Government may do this. Parliament may say what it thinks proper. But, of my own free will, I will not move, knowing as I do, that I am right in the course which has been adopted. Did ever any one hear of the Government of India learning that a class of men were not having fair-play at the time of settlement, and then failing to interfere or to issue such orders as the case appeared to demand?”