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democratic than a Whig. Yet this was the language which Johnson, the most bigoted of Tories and High Churchmen, held under the administration of Walpole and Pelham.

Thus doctrines favourable to public liberty were inculcated alike by those who were in power, and by those who were in opposition. It was by means of these doctrines alone that the former could prove that they had a king de jure. The servile theories of the latter did not prevent them from offering every molestation to one whom they considered as merely a king de facto. The attachment of the one party to the house of Hanover, of the other to that of Stuart, induced both to talk a language much more favourable to popular rights than to monarchical power. What took place at the first representation of "Cato" is no bad illustration of the way in which the two great sections of the community almost invariably acted. A play, the whole merit of which consists in its stately rhetoric,-a rhetoric sometimes not unworthy of Lucan,-about hating tyrants and dying for freedom, is brought on the stage in a time of great political exciteinent. Both parties crowd to the theatre. Each affects to consider every line as a compliment to itself, and an attack on its opponents. The curtain falls amidst an unanimous roar of applause. The Whigs of the " Kit Cat" embrace the author, and assure him that he has rendered an inestimable service to liberty. The Tory Secretary of State presents a purse to the chief actor for defending the cause of liberty so well. The history of that night was, in miniature, the history of two generations.

We well know how much sophistry there was in the reasonings, and how much exaggeration in the declamations of both parties. But when we compare the state in which political science was at the close of the reign of George the Second, with the state in which it had been wher James the Second came to the throne, it

Here another vast field opens itself before us. But we must resolutely turn away from it. We will conclude by earnestly advising all our readers to study Sir James Mackintosh's invaluable Fragment; and by expressing the satisfaction we have received from learning, since this article was written, that the intelligent publishers of the volume before us have resolved to reprint the Fragment in a separate form, without those accompaniments which have hitherto impeded its circulation. The resolution is as creditable to them as the publication is sure te

is impossible not to admit that a prodigious | be acceptable to the lovers of English history.

improvement had taken place. We are no
admirers of the political doctrines laid down
in Blackstone's Commentaries. But if we con-
sider that those Commentaries were read with
great applause in the very schools where,
within the memory of some persons then living,
books had been publicly burned by order of the
University of Oxford, for containing the “damn-
able doctrine," that the English monarchy is
limited and mixed, we cannot deny that a salu
tary change had taken place. "The Jesuits,"
says Pascal, in the last of his incomparable
letters, "have obtained a Papal decree con-
demning Galileo's doctrine about the motion
of the earth. It is all in vain. If the world is
really turning round, all mankind together will
not be able to keep it from turning, or to keep
themselves from turning with it." The decrees
of Oxford were as ineffectual to stay the great
moral and political revolution, as those of the
Vatican to stay the motion of our globe. That
learned University found itself not only unable
to keep the mass from moving, but unable to
keep itself from moving along with the mass.
Nor was the effect of the discussions and spe-
culations of that period confined to our own
country. While the Jacobite party was in the
last dotage and weakness of its paralytic old
age, the political philosophy of England began
to produce a mighty effect on France, and,
through France, on Europe.

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SIR JOHN MALCOLM'S LIFE OF LORD CLIVE.*

[EDINBURGH REVIEW FOR JANUARY, 1840.]

We have always thought it strange that, while the history of the Spanish empire in America is so familiarly known to all the na- We fear that Sir John Malcolm's volumes tions of Europe, the great actions of our own will not much attract those readers whom countrymen in the East should, even among Orme and Mill have repelk The materials ourselves, excite little interest. Every school- placed at his disposal by the late Lord Powis boy knows who imprisoned Montezuma, and were indeed of great value. But we cannot who strangled Atabalipa. But we doubt whe- say that they have been very skilfully worked ther one in ten, even among English gentlemen | up. It would, however, be unjust to criticise of highly cultivated minds, can tell who won with severity a work which, if the author had the battle of Buxar, who perpetrated the mas- lived to complete and revise it, would proba sacre of Patna, whether Surajah Dowlah ruled bly have been improved by condensation and in Oude or in Travancore, or whether Holkar by a better arrangement. We are more diswas a Hindoo or a Mussulman. Yet the vic- posed to perform the pleasing duty of express tories of Cortes were gained over savages who ing our gratitude to the noble family to which had no letters, who were ignorant of the use the public owes so much useful and curious of metals, who had not broken in a single ani- information. mal to labour, who wielded no better weapons than those which could be made out of sticks, flints, and fish-bones, who regarded a horsesoldier as a monster, half man and half beast, who took a harquebusier for a sorcerer able to scatter the thunder and lightning of the skies. The people of India when we subdued them were ten times as numerous as the vanquished Americans, and were at the same time quite as highly civilized as the victorious Spaniards. They had reared cities larger and fairer than Saragossa or Toledo, and buildings more beautiful and costly than the cathedral of Seville. They could show bankers richer than the richest firms of Barcelona or Cadiz; viceroys whose splendour far surpassed that of Ferdinand the Catholic; myriads of cavalry and long trains of artillery which would have astonished the Great Captain. It might have been expected that every Englishman who takes any interest in any part of history would be curious to know how a handful of his countrymen, separated from their home by an immense ocean, subjugated, in the course of a few years, one of the greatest empires in the world. Yet, unless we greatly err, this subject is to most readers not only insipid, but positively distasteful.

Perhaps the fault lies partly with the historians. Mr. Mill's book, though it has undoubt edly great and rare merit, is not sufficiently animated and picturesque to attract those who read for amusement. Orme, inferior to no English historian in style and power of painting, is minute even to tediousness. In one volume he allots, on an average, a closely printed quarto page to the events of every forty-eight hours. The consequence is that his narrative, though one of the most authentic and one of the most finely written in our lan

The Life of Robert Lord Clive; collected from the
Family Papers, communicated by the Earl of Powis. By

Major-General Sir JOHN MALCOLM, K. C. B. 3 vols. 8vo.
London. 1836.

guage, has never been very popular, and is now scarcely ever read.

The effect of the book, even when we make the largest allowance for the partiality of those who have furnished and of those who have digested the materials, is, on the whole, greatly to raise the character of Lord Clive. We are far indeed from sympathizing with Sir John Malcolm, whose love passes the love of biographers, and who can see nothing but wisdom and justice in the actions of his idol. But we are at least equally far from concurring in the severe judgment of Mr. Mill, who seems to us to show less discrimination in his account of Clive than in any other part of his valuable work. Clive, like most men who are born with strong passions, and tried by strong tempta tions, committed great faults. But every per son who takes a fair and enlightened view of his whole career must admit that our island, so fertile in heroes and statesmen, has scarcely ever produced a man more truly great either in arms or in council.

The Clives had been settled ever since the twelfth century on an estate of no great value near Market-Drayton, in Shropshire. In the reign of George the First this moderate but ancient inheritance was possessed by Mr. Richard Clive, who seems to have been a plain man of no great tact or capacity. He had been bred to the law, and divided his time between professional business and the avocations of a small proprietor. He married a lady from Manchester of the name of Gaskill and became the father of a very numerous family. His eldest son, Robert, the founder of the British empire in India, was born at the old seat of his ancestors on the 29th of September, 1725.

Some lineaments of the character of the man were early discerned in the child. There re main letters written by his relations when he was in his seventh year; and from these it appears that, even at that early age, his strong will and his fiery passions, sustained by a constitutional intrepidity which sometimes seemed

hardly compatible with soundness of mind, haded by its garden, whither the wealthy agents begun to cause great uneasiness to his family. of the Company retired, after the labours of "Fighting," says one of his uncles, " to which the desk and the warehouse, to enjoy the cool he is out of measure addicted, gives his tem- breeze which springs up at sunset from the per such a fierceness and imperiousness that Bay of Bengal. The habits of these mercanhe flies out on every trifling occasion." The tile grandees appear to have been more proold people of the neighbourhood still remem- fuse, luxurious, and ostentatious, than those ber to have heard from their parents how Bob of the high judicial and political functionaries Clive climbed to the top of the lofty steeple of who have succeeded them. But comfort was Market-Drayton, and with what terror the inha- far less understood. Many devices which now bitants saw him seated on a stone spout near mitigate the heat of the climate, preserve the summit. They also relate how he formed health, and prolong life, were unknown. all the good-for-nothing lads of the town into a There was far less intercourse with Europe kind of predatory army, and compelled the than at present. The voyage by the Cape, shopkeepers to submit to a tribute of apples which in our time has often been performed and halfpence, in consideration of which he within three months, was then very seldom guarantied the security of their windows. He accomplished in six, and was sometimes prowas sent from school to school, making very tracted to more than a year. Consequently the little progress in his learning, and gaining for Anglo-Indian was then much more estranged himself everywhere the character of an ex- from his country, much more an oriental in ceedingly naughty boy. One of his masters, his tastes and habits, and much less fitted to it is said, was sagacious enough to prophesy mix in society after his return to Europe, than that the idle lad would make a great figure in the Anglo-Indian of the present day. the world. But the general opinion seems to have been that poor Robert was a dunce, if not a reprobate. His family expected nothing good from such slender parts and such a headstrong temper. It is not strange, therefore, that they gladly accepted for him, when he was in his eighteenth year, a writership in the service of the East India Company, and shipped him off to make a fortune or to die of a fever at Madras.

Within the fort and its precincts, the English governors exercised, by permission of the native rulers, an extensive authority. But they had never dreamed of claiming independent power. The surrounding country was governed by the Nabob of the Carnatic, a deputy of the Viceroy of the Deccan, commonly called the Nizam, who was himself only a deputy of the mighty prince designated by our ancestors as the Great Mogul. Those names, once so angust and formidable, still remain. There is still a Nabob of the Carnatic, who lives on a pension allowed to him by the Company, out of the revenues of the province which his ancestors ruled. There is still a Nizam, whose capital is overawed by a British cantonment, and to whom a British resident gives, under the name of advice, commands which are not to be disputed. There is still a Mogul, who is permitted to play at holding courts and receiv ing petitions, but who has less power to help or hurt than the youngest civil servant of the Company.

Far different were the prospects of Clive from those of the youths whom the East India College now annually sends to the Presidencies of our Asiatic empire. The Company was then purely a trading corporation. Its territory consisted of a few square miles, for which rent was paid to the native governments. Its troops were scarcely numerous enough to man the batteries of three or four ill-construct ed forts, which had been erected for the protection of the warehouses. The natives, who composed a considerable part of these little garrisons had not yet been trained in the discipline of Europe, and were armed, some with Clive's voyage was unusually tedious even swords and shields, some with bows and ar- for that age. The ship remained some months rows. The business of the servants of the at the Brazils, where the young adventurer Company was not, as now, to conduct the ju-picked up some knowledge of Portuguese, and dicial, financial, and diplomatic business of a spent all his pocket-money. He did not arrive great country, but to take stock, to make ad- in India till more than a year after he had left vances to weavers, to ship cargoes, and to England. His situation at Madras was most keep a sharp look-out for private traders who painful. His funds were exhausted. His pay dared to infringe the monopoly. The younger was small. He had contracted debts. He was clerks were so miserably paid that they could wretchedly lodged-no small calamity in a cliscarcely subsist without incurring debt; the mate which can be rendered tolerable to a elder enriched themselves by trading on their European only by spacious, and well-placed own account; and those who lived to rise to apartments. He had been furnished with let. the top of the service, often accumulated con- ters of recommendation to a gentleman who siderable fortunes. might have assisted him; but when he landed Madras, to which Clive had been appointed, at Fort St. George he found that this gentleman was, at this time, perhaps, the first in import- had sailed for England. His shy and haughty ance of the Company's settlements. In the disposition withheld him from introducing himpreceding century, Fort St. George had arisen self. He was several months in India before on a barren spot, beaten by a raging surf; and he became acquainted with a single family. in the neighbourhood of a town, inhabited by The climate affected his health and spirits. many thousands of natives, had sprung up, as His duties were of a kind ill suited to his artowns spring up in the East, with the rapidity dent and daring character. He pined for his of the prophet's gourd. There were already in home, and in his letters to his relations ex the suburbs many white villas, each surround-pressed his feelings in language softer and

Madras to the English was by no means compatible. He declared that Labourdonnais had gone beyond his powers; that conquests made by the French arms on the continent of India were at the disposal of the Governor of Pondi cherry alone; and that Madras should be rased to the ground. Labourdonnais was forced to yield. The anger which the breach of the capitulation excited among the English was increased by the ungenerous manner in which Dupleix treated the principal servants of the company. The Governor and several of the first gentlemen of Fort St. George were carried under a guard to Pondicherry, and conducted through the town in a triumphal procession, under the eyes of fifty thousand spectators. It was with reason thought that this gross violation of public faith absolved the inhabitants of Madras from the engagements into which they had entered with Labourdonnais. Clive fled But neither climate, nor poverty, nor study, from the town by night, in the disguise of a nor the sorrows of a homesick exile, could Mussulman, and took refuge at Fort St. David, tame the desperate audacity of his spirit. He one of the small English settlements subordi. behaved to his official superiors as he had be-nate to Madras. haved to his schoolmasters, and was several The circumstances in which he was now times in danger of losing his situation. Twice, placed naturally led him to adopt a profession while residing in the Writers' Buildings, he at- better suited to his restless and intrepid spirit tempted to destroy himself; and twice the pis-than the business of examining packages and tol which he snapped at his own head failed to casting accounts. He solicited and obtained go off. This circumstance, it is said, affected an ensign's commission in the service of the him as a similar escape affected Wallenstein. Company, and at twenty-one entered on his After satisfying himself that the pistol was military career. His personal courage, of really well loaded, he burst forth into an excla- which he had, while still a writer, given signal mation, that surely he was reserved for some-proof by a desperate duel with a military bully thing great. who was the terror of Fort St. David, speedily made him conspicuous even among hundreds of brave men. He soon began to show in his new calling other qualities which had not be fore been discerned in him—judgment, sagacity, deference to legitimate authority. He distin guished himself highly in several operations against the French, and was particularly no. ticed by Major Lawrence, who was then con sidered as the ablest British officer in India.

About this time an event, which at first seemed likely to destroy all his hopes in life, suddenly opened before him a new path to eminence. Europe had been, during some years, distracted by the war of the Austrian succession. George II. was the steady ally of Maria Theresa. The house of Bourbon took the opposite side. Though England was even then the first of maritime powers, she was not, as she has since become, more than a match He had been only a few months in the army on the sea for all the nations of the world to when intelligence arrived that peace had been gether; and she found it difficult to maintain a concluded between Great Britain and France contest against the united navies of France Dupleix was in consequence compelled to re and Spain. in the eastern seas France ob- store Madras to the English Company; and the tained the ascendency. Labourdonnais, Go- young ensign was at liberty to resume his for vernor of Mauritius, a man of eminent talents mer business. He did indeed return for a shor and virtues, conducted an expedition to the time to his desk. He again quitted it in orde. continent of India, in spite of the opposition to assist Major Lawrence in some petty hosti of the British fleet-landed; assembled an ar-lities with the native.., and then again returned my, appeared before Madras, and compelled to it. While he was thus wavering between a the town and fort to capitulate. The keys military and a commercial life, events took were delivered up; the French colours were place which decided his choice. The politics displayed on Fort St. George; and the contents of India assumed a new aspect. There was of the Company's warehouses were seized as peace between the English and French crowns; prize of war by the conquerors. It was stipu- but there arose between the English and French lated by the capitulation that the English in- companies trading to the East, a war inost habitants should be prisoners of war on parole, eventful and important-a war in which the and that the town should remain in the hands prize was nothing less than the magnificent of the French till it should be ransomed. La-inheritance of the house of Tamerlane. bourdonnais pledged his honour that only a moderate ransom should be required.

But the success of Labourdonnais had awakened the jealousy of his countryman, Dupleix, Governor of Pondicherry. Dupleix, moreover, had already begun to revolve giganic schemes, with which the restoration of

more ensive than we should have expected,
from the waywardness of his boyhood, or from
the inflexible sternness of his later years. "I
have not enjoyed," says he, "one happy day
since I left my native country." And again,
"I must confess, at intervals, when I think of
my dear native England, it affects me in a very
particular manner. . . .
... If I should be so far
blest as to revisit again my own country, but
more especially Manchester, the centre of all
my wishes, all that I could hope or desire for
would be presented before me in one view."

One solace he found of the most respectable kind. The Governor possessed a good library, and permitted Clive to have access to it. The young man devoted much of his leisure to reading, and acquired at this time almost all the knowledge of books that he ever possessed. As a boy he had been too idle, as a man he soon became too busy, for literary pursuits.

The empire which Baber and his Moguls reared in the sixteenth century was long one of the most extensive and splendid in the world. In no European kingdom was so large a pupulation subject to a single prince, or so large revenue poured into the treasury. The beauty and magnificence of the buildings erected by

the sovereigns of Hindostan, amazed even travellers who had seen St. Peter's. The innumerable retinues and gorgeous decorations which surrounded the throne of Delhi, dazzled even eyes which were accustomed to the pomp of Versailles. Some of the great viceroys, who held their posts by virtue of commissions from the Mogul, ruled as many subjects and enjoyed as large an income as the King of France or the Emperor of Germany. Even the deputies of these deputies might well rank, as to extent of territory and amount of revenue, with the Grand-duke of Tuscany and the Elector of Saxony.

There can be little doubt that this great empire, powerful and prosperous as it appears on a superficial view, was yet, even in its best days, far worse governed than the worst governed parts of Europe now are. The administration was tainted with all the vices of Oriental despotism, and with all the vices inseparable from the domination of race over race. The conflicting pretensions of the princes of the royal house produced a long series of crimes and public disasters. Ambitious lieutenants of the sovereign sometimes aspired to independence. Fierce tribes of Hindoos, impatient of a foreign yoke, frequently withheld tribute, repelled the armies of the government from their mountain fastnesses, and poured down in arms on the cultivated plains. In spite, however, of much constant misadministration, in spite of occasional convulsions which shook the whole frame of society, this great monarchy, on the whole, retained, during some generations, an outward appearance of unity, majesty, and energy. But, throughout the long reign of Aurungzebe, the state, notwithstanding all that the vigour and policy of the prince could effect, was hastening to dissolution. After his death, which took place in the year 1707, the ruin was fearfully rapid. Violent shocks from without co-operated with an incurable decay which was fast proceeding | within; and in a few years the empire had ungone utter decomposition.

of the Pannonian forests. The Saracen ruled in Sicily, desolated the fertile plains of Campania, and spread terror even to the walls of Rome. In the midst of these sufferings, a great internal change passed upon the empire. The corruption of death began to ferment into new forms of life. While the great body, as a whole, was torpid and passive, every separate member began to feel with a sense, and to move with an energy all its own. Just here, in the most barren and dreary tract of European history, all feudal privileges, all modern nobility, take their source. To this point we trace the power of those princes who, nominally vassals, but really independent, long governed, with the titles of dukes, marquesses, and counts, almost every part of the dominions which had obeyed Charlemagne.

Such or nearly such was the change which passed on the Mogul empire during the forty years which followed the death of Aurungzebe. A series of nominal sovereigns, sunk in indolence and debauchery, sauntered away life in secluded palaces, chewing bang, fondling concubines, and listening to buffoons. A series of ferocious invaders had descended through the western passes, to prey on the defenceless wealth of Hindostan. A Persian conqueror crossed the Indus, marched through the gates of Delhi, and bore away in triumph those treasures of which the magnificence had astounded Roe and Bernier;-the Peacock Throne on which the richest jewels of Golconda had been disposed by the most skilful hands of Europe, and the inestimable Mountain of Light, which, after many strange vicissitudes, lately shone in the bracelet of Runjeet Sing, and is now destined to adorn the hideous idol of Orissa. The Afghan soon followed to complete the work of devastation which the Persian had begun. The warlike tribes of Rajpoots threw off the Mussulman yoke. A band of mercenary soldiers occupied Rohilcund. The Seiks ruled on the Indus. The Jauts spread terror along the Jumnah. The high lands which border on the western seacoast of India poured forth a yet

The history of the successors of Theodosius more formidable race;-a race which was bears no small analogy to that of the succes-long the terror of every native power, and sors of Aurungzebe. But perhaps the fall of which yielded only, after many desperate and the Carlovingians furnishes the nearest paral- doubtful struggles, to the fortune and genius of lel to the fall of the Moguls. Charlemagne was England. It was under the reign of Aurungscarcely interred when the imbecility and the zebe that this wild clan of plunderers first disputes of his descendants began to bring descended from the mountains; and soon after contempt on themselves and destruction on his death, every corner of his wide empire their subjects. The wide dominion of the learned to tremble at the mighty name of the Franks was severed into a thousand pieces. Mahrattas. Many fertile viceroyalties were Nothing more than a nominal dignity was left entirely subdued by them. Their dominicas to the abject heirs of an illustrious name, stretched across the Peninsula from sea to Charles the Bald, and Charles the Fat, and sea. Their captains reigned at Poonah, at Charles the Simple. Fierce invaders, differing Gaulior, in Guzerat, in Berar, and in Tanjore. from each other in race, language, and reli- Nor did they, though they had become great gion, flocked as if by concert from the furthest sovereigns, therefore cease to be freebooters. corners of the earth, to plunder provinces They still retained the predatory habits of their which the government could no longer defend. forefathers. Every region which was not subThe pirates of the Baltic extended their ra- ject to their rule was wasted by their incur vages from the Elbe to the Pyrenees, and at sions. Wherever their kettledrums were heard, length fixed their seat in the rich valley of the the peasant threw his bag of rice on his shoulder Seine. The Hungarian, in whom the trem- hid his small savings in his girdle, and fled with bling monks fancied that they recognised the his wife and children to the mountains or the Gog and Magog of prophecy, carried back the jungles-to the milder neighbourhood of the plunder of the cities of Lombardy to the depth hyæna and the tiger. Many provinces redeeme..

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