offered them at Government House. The same individuals could not be loud enough in praise of the wines tendered to them on the occasion of their first dining with Sir John Lawrence's successor. And yet, it is a fact that the wines were the same- -the remnant of the stock left behind by Sir John.

It is strange that the greatest enemies of Sir John, himself a civilian, should exist in the ranks of the covenanted Civil Service. As a body, these grudge him alike the opportunities he has enjoyed and the honours he has gained. They are heartily glad that he has gone. This feeling is strong in Bengal proper, but it exists in greater or less intensity all over the country. We can only attribute it, on the whole, to the jealousy entertained by men generally of those who rise from their own level to a superior position, of which we have in England a striking example in the malignity with which the literary world has attacked the career of Mr. Disraeli. In the case of Sir John Lawrence it is perhaps not remarkable that the members of his own service who have shown towards him the least sympathy are, in some cases, men whom he has himself advanced, and advanced in spite of the public opinion hostile to their claims.

one of the greatest men India has ever trained. Socially-and it is this which has made him so many enemies he did not always raise himself to the level of his position -that is to say, with the best will in the world he made social mistakes such as those to whom they referred rarely pardoned. He forgot men's names and faces; he shook hands with the wrong man, and gave a distant bow to him to whom he should have been cordial. He did not mix with the crowd at his parties, but generally spent the evening in talking with any one who had the assurance to address him. The fact is, he disliked large parties; he was naturally shy and reserved, and he was too glad to allow people to do exactly as they liked under his roof. But these social mistakes were never forgiven-nay, in some cases they were treasured up against him to the hour of his departure. Then, again, although he was the most liberal of men-although he entertained munificently, and spared no expense in his household arrangements-although the amount expended in charity was enormous yet his refusal to give a cup to the races, and some mistakes made by the members of his earlier staff, of which he himself had no knowledge, gave to the grumblers and cavillers an opportunity of which they eagerly took advantage. The mistakes alluded to were remedied at the earliest opportunity by a change in the personal staff, but their effect long survived. In so far as they personally affected Sir John Lawrence they were utterly baseless. He himself cared nothing for the pleasures of the table, and cared little for wine. But in catering for the public, his instructions were that the best of everything should be provided. We unhesitatingly assert that these instructions were literally carried out. And yet some men, who probably knew nothing of the real quality of wine, thought it fine to pretend that they could not drink what was

cide in such matters according to his own convictions of what was befitting, rather than according to their fancies. And even when they have personally suffered, they have not failed to admire the determination to act according to his own lights, without favour or affection, which has been one of the most marked characteristics of Sir John Lawrence's career. They have detected, moreover, in all his actions, that quick coup d'oeil, that power of acting on the moment, of grasping a plan embracing many simultaneous operations, which so strongly marks a great military commander. His strong sense of justice has not less commended itself to their admiration; and they have appreciated to the full that superiority to petty routine which prompted him to ask the advice of a junior officer, surrounded though he might be by the dullest mediocrities in the country.

By the native landowners Sir John, though really their greatest benefactor, was not appreciated. They regarded all his efforts to educate and raise the status of the cultivators as attacks upon themselves. They did not correctly appreciate the fact that to improve the condition of the masses was indirectly to benefit themselves. They adopted, therefore, that shibboleth so common among AngloIndians "What has he done for us?" and although he had in reality given them peace and prosperity-although he had taxed them but lightly-although he had opened out to the best amongst them opportunities of public service-yet, because he had refused to tax the masses to their advantage, they replied, "Nothing," and condemned him.

It is necessary, to a complete conception of the character of the late Viceroy, that we should allude to one particular feature of it, which is not generally known. We allude to the manner in which he regarded the criticisms of the public.

do not hesitate to avow that Sir John was extremely sensitive to the attacks of the press. This is easy to account for. He had not been trained in that rough public life through which an English statesman has to hew his path. As a young and rising civilian the press had never referred to him but to praise him. As Chief Commissioner of the Punjaub he had been held up by the press to the public as a pattern administrator. After the terrible events of 1857, the English press vied with the Anglo-Indian in endeavouring to do him honour. It was only after he had become Viceroy, after he had reached the highest point to which a subject could rise, that the tone of the Indian press changed. Then he was attacked; then he was loaded with abuse; then the merit of his past achievements was. rudely plucked from him; then he was told that it was not he who had! saved the Punjaub in 1857, but his subordinates in spite of him. These attacks were made, it is true, aster he had refused to tax the masses.. rather than the rich; after he had expressed his determination to protect the coolie labourer against ill usage from his employer, the planter; after he had pronounced against an aggressive policy in the North-West, and in favour of a limited measure of tenant-right in Oudh.. Sir John felt these attacks, and winced under them; they annoyed and vexed him; but not one of them affected his policy. No prospect of their cessation, and of a torrent of praise in their stead, altered a single measure in favour of which his convictions had been enlisted. A memorable instance of this occurred in 1867. The Lieutenant-Governor of Bengal had introduced into the Bengal Council, and that Council had passed, a measure called for by the European tea-planters, regulating the service of the coolies imported from Bengal into the provinces of Assam and Cachar. The measure was strongly recommended

by the Lieutenant-Governor, by several members of his own Council, and by the press. Sir John had only to pass it, and his popularity with the European community of Calcutta was insured. But he did not like it. He thought it forged the chains of servitude on the unfortunate coolies, and, after long and anxious consideration, he refused to it his sanction. Instead thereof, however, he ordered a commission, the members of which were to be nominated by the LieutenantGovernor of Bengal, who was in favour of the Bill and convinced of its equity, to traverse the two provinces and to report as to the probable effect which the Bill would have on the coolie population. They traversed the two provinces accordingly; but all the evidence they took, all that they saw, convinced them of the tyrannical nature of the Bill, of the justice of the objections taken to it by Sir John. Yet, because Sir John refused his assent to a measure thus proved to be tyrannical and unjust, he was attacked incessantly by the press. On this, as on all occasions, he preferred his conscience to popularity.

And yet, notwithstanding this, when the day arrived for his departure from the country in which he had served with so much honour -which he had been, under Providence, the means of saving in 1857a feeling of compunction seemed to steal over very many for the manner in which they had opposed him in his viceregal office. Some few, indeed, held as much aloof, as they could consistently with the position they occupied, preferring to make their court to the rising sun; but the heart of the mass of the European population turned towards him with affection and reverence. The hearty cheers which greeted him as he stepped on board the vessel that was to convey him to the steamer, told him that he had earned the respect which was not to be bought, that all calcula

THE Radical faction in the United States has become somewhat too rampant. Having conquered the South, and monopolised the favour of the North, it seems to think, with its large Congressional majority at its back, that there are no limits to its power; that it can snub and humiliate Great Britain, annex the whole of British America, and take possession of Mexico, Cuba, and the West Indies, without let or hindrance, or more than a gentle protest from the states and kingdoms that may be aggrieved by its rapacity. This arrogance, which might be amusing if it were not disgusting, is not without its dangerous side. Were it only displayed in the newspapers, it would be bad enough; but it becomes much worse when a man like Mr. Charles Sumner lends it the authority of his name and position, and when other senators follow his lead and let loose their tongues to stir up strife between England and America. The Mr. Chandler who curtly insists that England shall be made to give up Canada to the United States whether the Canadians approve or disapprove, and who boasts that 60,000 "Michiganders" are ready to overrun Canada at the shortest notice, is or was lately a linen-draper at Detroit. It is no disparagement of him, even among the Americans who know him best, to say that he is a man without education, manners, or sobriety; and that he is of no more political account than Daniel O'Sullivan, the Cork buttermerchant and ex-mayor and magistrate, who thinks that assassins may be honourable men. As such, Mr. Chandler may be dismissed as an unfavourable specimen of the class of men that universal suffrage and the political system of the Great Republic sometimes elevate into public position. Mr. Charles Sumner is a politician of a higher order

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of intellect, and, by virtue of his office as Chairman of the Committee of the Senate on Foreign Relations, is a far more influential person. In some respects he is superior to a Secretary of State, whose nominations he can reject, and whose policy he may thwart. In fact, Mr. Sumner is one of the leading men of America. He is an accomplished speaker-somewhat too much addicted to high falutin," spreadeagleism," and long poetical quotations, but eloquent, nevertheless, and well trained in the higher departments of public life. He is a native of Boston in Massachusetts, and a lawyer by profession, though he does not live by his practice, but upon his salary as a senator. He' has long been noted for his antislavery opinions, which he has advocated through evil as well as through good report, but always without much temper or discretion. Eleven or twelve years ago he wantonly charged the Southern ladies with being แ unvirtuous," and created thereby а social commotion in Washington which has seldom been equalled in that city. Called upon to retract and apologise, he reiterated and intensified the slander at the first available opportunity. A Southern member of Congress, named Brooks, called him personally to account; and Mr. Sumner refusing to give him the satisfaction of the duello, or any other, champion of the South took occasion to administer personal chastisement, by beating the senator over the head with a stick. this act the Southern ladies presented Mr. Brooks with a goldheaded and jewelled cane. consequences to Mr. Sumner were serious. By the advice of his medical attendants, who dreaded mental as well as physical injury to their patient as the result of this savage onslaught, he retired for

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