like a torrent, destroying all that is found, and leaving nothing but what itself deposited. Our course has been rather that of a gently swelling inundation, which leaves the former surface undisturbed and spreads over it a richer mould from which the vegetation may derive a new verdure, and the landscape possess a beauty which was unknown before. Such has been our course in the civil administration. We examined the existing systems, retained whatever of them we found right and just, and then engrafted on this basis new maxims derived from our own institutions. And thus we have succeeded in forming a system which is generally admitted to have been easy in its operation, and happy in its effect.' The conclusion of this great speech was characterized by that broad-minded religious toleration which was one of his most distinguishing traits; it marked his recognition of the fact that differences of opinion must prevail in the sphere of religion; he urged upon his audience that each should offer, in his own way, a prayer to the God each worshipped, that morality might be rightly taught, and truth in all its majesty prevail, within the walls of the new college.

Mr. Morley, commenting some years ago on a remarkable utterance of Mr. Gladstone in favour of toleration towards other faiths of the world, used this noble language: ́ Tolerance means reverence for all the possibilities of truth. It means acknowledgement that she dwells in divers mansions, and wears vestures of many colours, and speaks in strange tongues. It means the charity that is ever greater than faith or hope.' Mr. Thomason's attitude towards the faiths of the people of the East was, indeed, always marked by the same broad sympathy and tolerance; while himself a profound believer in the truth of his own religion, he would never allow himself to go beyond the rules of neutrality in religion, which he saw was the only possible position for the Government of India to adopt. It is reported of him that, when some friends of his asked him to allow Christian teaching to accompany secular teaching in his new scheme for primary education, his reply was: My business as a Governor is to enlighten people, not to teach religion.'

6

Towards the middle of September, in the year 1853,

Thomason was nominated by the India Board to the post of Governor of the Madras Presidency, but on the very day on which the Queen signed the paper giving her sanction to his appointment, September 27, 1853, he passed peacefully away, dying at the post of duty.

The notification of the Government of India issued after the announcement of his death contained this high encomium : Conspicuous ability, devotion to the public service, and a conscientious discharge of every duty, have marked each step of his honourable course; while his surpassing administrative capacity, his extensive knowledge of affairs, his clear judgement, his benevolence of character, and suavity of demeanour, have adorned and exalted the high position which he was wisely selected to fill.'

Similarly, the Court of Directors recorded their high opinion of him: Mr. Thomason had obtained distinction in the several stages of his official progress; and, as Lieutenant-Governor of the North-Western Provinces during a period of nine years, he exhibited all the qualities of an accomplished and successful administrator. He omitted no research, and spared no pains, to make himself master of every subject that came before him, however minute, or however comprehensive.

The eulogy of the Press perhaps gives the chief clue to his success as an administrator: It is not in a barren record of incidents that the biography of such a man as Mr. Thomason consists. It is rather in a minute detail of the process by which he contrived to brace up the administration, till it became the model Government of Asia, and while rendering it strong to the point of despotism, retained the affection of the people who obeyed it. In all his projects he never forgot that the success of a centralized Government depends upon smaller arrangements. He would walk into the record room of a collectorate, take down a bundle of vernacular proceedings, detect at a glance if they had been properly arranged, and remark upon the orders passed by the collector. He would enter a medical dispensary, examine the book of cases, gladden the heart of the Indian surgeon by a few pertinent remarks, and perhaps set him thinking on the properties of a drug procurable in the bazaar, and relied upon by Indian practitioners, but un

known to the English physician. He would question an Indian revenue officer about the condition of his villages, and remark upon the effect of a hailstorm which had lately occurred in some village under his control. Every officer was aware that with him generalities were of no avail, that the Governor knew more of his district than he did himself, and that his own best policy was to point out deficiencies.' In some correspondence that passed between Mr. Thomason and one of his daughters occur these words: 'What was wanted to make India really loyal was a personal embodiment of the ruling power rather than an abstract idea. Loyalty in any form is delightful. I am sure it is the safeguard of the country. We expect the people of India to be attached to the Government, that is, the East India Company. But the thing is impossible. No Oriental people ever yet loved an abstract idea. They must have a personal embodiment of the ruling power: it is that that acts with extraordinary force on the minds of our fellow subjects.' In these words lies another if not indeed the chief clue to his success, he made himself the personal embodiment of the ruling power to his own people in his Province, and was thus able to evoke an affection and a loyalty such as few rulers before or after have been able to call forth from their subjects. It would have rejoiced his heart to have known that within the short space of five years, after a crisis that shook the loyalty of India to its foundations, not only one Province, but the whole of India would have a personal embodiment of the ruling power in the benign personality of the Great Queen.

66

This sketch of a unique personality may be brought to a fitting conclusion with the eulogy of Sir Richard Temple, his biographer, than which no more noble eulogy could have been penned. The lamented Laureate, Tennyson, just before his death, wrote a short poem entitled Akbar's Dream". He dreams that his successors are loosening, stone by stone, the fair fabric which he had reared, and in which dwelt Truth and Peace, and Love and Justice; yet again he dreams and sees that :—

From out the sunset poured an alien race
Who fitted stone to stone again, and Truth,

Peace, Love, and Justice came and dwelt therein.

Now the spirit of Akbar's sway in these Provinces, though suppressed by long misrule, did still survive to be awakened into a purer life by British power in the hands of several administrators, among whom Thomason was the foremost. Thus the vision, which the English poet attributes to Abkar, does exactly represent the future that was destined to be realized under Thomason and his brethren.'

CHAPTER VIII

THE LAST LIEUTENANT-GOVERNOR OF THE NORTH-WEST PROVINCES UNDER THE COMPANY

JOHN RUSSELL COLVIN, 1807-1857.

COLVIN'S father had originally been in the Royal Navy, but he had left the service to join a brother who was in business in Calcutta. It was here that Colvin was born. He was sent to Scotland to be educated at the University of St. Andrews. Scottish Universities at this time corresponded very much to what are now known as High Schools, the only difference being that the students were magnificently arrayed in scarlet gowns and caps. He left the University at the early age of fourteen, with this encomium from his mathematical master: During my experience as a professor, I have but rarely witnessed so much strength as well as quickness of talent, and so much proficiency exhibited by a person so young.'

As he was intended for an Indian writership, he was next sent to a private tutor in London for two years, and thence to Haileybury, the East India College near London. Writing in later years he throws some light on the life led by the students of his day at Haileybury, which shows that it was a life not unlike that often led at the older Universities of Oxford and Cambridge: I was a man of many acquaintances, and of somewhat gadding and social habits all my work being done at night. You may do a good deal at the same time if you set yourself to it steadily.' As with many a man at the University, so with Colvin at Haileybury, his social habits did not prevent him from distinguishing himself in the Schools. He passed out of Haileybury after the usual course, carrying off the honours of the year in classics and mathematics.

He was now eighteen, and he duly proceeded to India in the early part of 1826. A college had been established in Calcutta on a less magnificent scale than that originally