For one or two days Calcutta was a prey to mere panic The alarm was greatly increased by the fact that the dethroned King of Oudh was established near to the city. At Garden Reach, a few miles down the Hooghly, the disposessed king was living. There he lived for many years after, with his host of dependants and hangers-on round him. A picturesque writer lately described the "grotesque structures" in which the old man, with his mania for building. "quarters not only for his people but his menagerie." "Tower ater tower rises high above the lower buildings, on the top of each of which, comfortably quartered in a spacious den, abides a huge Bengal tiger, whose stripes glisten in the sun, in the sight of the passerby on the river. He owns vast flocks of trained pigeons, which fly or alight at the word of command-wild but not unmusical shouts-of coolies stationed on the housetops, who appear to direct their motions by the waving of long bamboos." The inhabitants of Calcutta, when the news of the mutiny came, were convinced that the King of Oudh harbored close to their city companions more dangerous than pigeons or even than Bengal tigers. They were sure that the place was the head-quarters of rebellion, and were expecting the moment when, from the residence at Garden Reach, an organized ariny of murderers was to be sent forth to capture and destroy the ill fated city, and to make its streets run with the blood of its massacred inhabitants. Lord Canning took the prudent course of having the king, with his prime minister, removed to the Governor-General's own residence within the precincts of Fort William.

There is no recklessness, no cruelty, like the cruelty and. recklessness of panic. Perhaps there is hardly any panic so demoralizing in its effects as that which seizes the unwarlike members of a ruling race set down in the midst of overwhelming numbers of the subject populations, at a moment when the cry goes abroad that the subjected are

rising in rebellion. Fortunately there was at the head of affairs in India a man with a cool head, a quiet, firm will, and a courage that never faltered. If ever the crisis found the man, Lord Canning was the man called for by that crisis in India. He had all the divining genius of the true statesman; the man who can rise to the height of some unexpected and new emergency; and he had the cool courage of a practised conqueror. The greatest trial to which a ruler can be subjected is to be called upon at a moment's notice to deal with events and conditions for which there is no precedent. The second-class statesman, the official statesman, if we may use such an expression, collapses under such a trial. The man of genius finds it his opportunity, and makes his own of it. Lord Canning thus found his opportunity in the Indian Mutiny. Among all the distracting counsels and wild stories poured in upon him from every side, he kept his mind clear. He never gave way either to anger or to alarm. If he ever showed a little impatience, it was only where panic would too openly have proclaimed itself by counsels of wholesale cruelty. He could not, perhaps, always conceal fiom frightened people the fact that he rather despised their terrors. Throughout the whole of that excited period there were few names, even among the chiefs of rebellion, on which fiercer denunciation was showered by Englishmen than the name of Lord Canning. Because he would not listen to the bloodthirsty clamors of mere frenzy, he was nicknamed "Clemency Canning," as if clemency were an attribute of which a man ought to be ashamed. Indeed, for some time people wrote and spoke, not merely in India but in England, as if clemency were a thing to be reprobated, like treason or crime. Every allowance must be made for the unparalleled excitement of such a time, and in especial for the manner in which the elementary passions of manhood were inflamed by the stories, happily not true, of the wholesale dishonor and barbarous mutilation of

women. But when the fullest allowance has been made for all this, it must be said by any one looking back on that painful time, that some of the public instructors of England betrayed a fury and ferocity which no conditions can excuse on the part of civilized and Christian men who have time to reflect before they write or speak. The advices which some English jourrais showered upon the government, the army, and ali concerned in repressing the mutiny might more fittingly have come from some of the heroes of the "Spanish Fury." Nay the Spanish Fury itself was in express words held up to the English army as an example for them to imitate. An English paper of high and well-earned authority distinctly declared that such mercy as Alva showed the Netherlands was the mercy that English soldiers must show to the rebellious regions of India. There was for a while but little talk of repression. Every one in England well knew that the rebellion would be repressed. It has to be remembered, to the credit of England's national courage and resolve, that not at the worst moment of the crisis did it seen to have occurred to any Englishman that there was the slightest possibility of the rebellion being allowed to succeed. It is painful to have to remember that the talk was not of repression but of revenge. Public speakers and writers were shrieking out for the vengeance which must be inflicted on India when the rebellion had been put down. For a while it seemed a question of patriotism which would propose the most savage and sanguinary measures of revenge. We shall see farther on that one distinguished English officer was clamorous to have powers given to him to impale, to burn alive, and to flay mutineers who had taken part in the murder of Englishwomen. Mr. Disraeli, to do him justice, raised his voice in remonstrance against the wild passions of the hour, even when these passions were strongest and most general. He declared that if such a temper were encouraged we ought to take down from our

altars the images of Christ and raise the statute of Moloch there; and he protested against making Nana Sahib, of whom we shall hear more, the model for the conduct of a British officer. Mr. Disraeli did, indeed, at a later period, show an inclination to back out of this courageous and honorable expression of opinion, but it stands, at all events, to the credit of his first impulse that he could venture, at such a time, to talk of morality, mercy and Christianity.

If people were so carried away in England, where the danger was far more remote, we can easily imagine what were the fears and passions aroused in India, where the terror was or might be at the door of every one. Lord Canning was gravely embarrased by the wild urgencies and counsels of distracted Englishmen, who were furious with him because he even thought of distinguishing friend from foe where native races were concerned. He bore himselt with perfect calmness; listened to everything that any one had to say, where time gave him any chance of doing so, read as far as possible all the myriad communications poured in upon him, regarded no suggestion as unworthy of consideration, just made his own resolves and his own judgment the final arbitrator. He was greatly assisted and encourged in his counsels by his brave and noble wite, who proved herself in every way worthy to be the helpmate of such a man at such a crisis. He did not for a moment underestimate the danger; but neither did he exaggerate its importance. He never allowed it to master him. looked upon it with the quiet resolute eye of one who is determined to be the conqueror in the struggle.

He

Lord Canning saw that the one important thing was to strike at Delhi, which had proclaimed itself the head-quarters of the Rebellion. He knew that English troops were on their way to China for the purpose of wreaking the wrongs of English subjects there, and he took on his own responsibility the bold step of intercepting them, and calling

them to the work of helping to put down the mutiny in India. The dispute with China he thought could well afford to wait, but with the mutiny it must be now or never. India could not wait for reinforcements brought all the way from England. In Scott's "Betrothed," the soldier of the knight who owns the frontier castle encourages him, when the Welsh are about to attack, by the assurance that the forces of the constable of Chester will soon come to his aid, and that with these reinforcements they will send the Welsh dragoon-flag flying from the field. The knight sadly answers that it must fly from the field before the reinforcements arrive, "or it will fly over all our dead bodies." Thus felt Lord Canning when he thought of the strong arms that England could send to his assistance. He knew well enough, as well as the wildest alarmist could know, that the rebel flag must be forced to fly from some field before that help came, or it would fly over the dead bodies of those who then rep: esented English authority in India. He had therefore no hesitation in stopping the troops that were on their way to China, and pressing them into the service of India at such a need. Fortune, toc, was favorable to him in more ways than one. The Persian war was of short duration. Sir James Outram was soon victorious, and the Persians sued for a peace. The treaty of Peace was signed at Paris in March, 1857, and was arranged so quickly that Outram inflicted a crushing defeat on the Persians after the treaty was signed, but before the news of its signature had time to reach the seat of war. Outram, therefore, and his gallant companions, Colonel Jacob and Colonel Havelock, were able to lend their invaluable services to the Governor-General of India. Most important for Lord Canning's purposes was the manner in which the

airs of the Punjaub were managed at this crisis. The Punjaub was under the administration of one of the ablest public servants India has ever had-Sir John, afterward