the beneficent administration of India, and for its efficient protection. These means are utterly wasted by the great majority of those in whose hands they have been left. A part of the revenue of our own provinces is equally wasted in watching over, and guarding against, the possible treachery and mischief-making of our puppets. We should not be able, for example, to advance the troops ordinarily stationed in Oude to the north-west frontier; because, first, the king is entitled to, and would probably claim, protection against his own subjects; and because, secondly, he has some corps of ragamuffins who could not be left behind the force which ordinarily overawes them, without jeopardy to the treasuries of our adjoining districts, and to the lives and properties of their unarmed inhabitants! We fear that, consistently with the maintenance of the national faith, none but the most ineffectual half measures are open to us for the amelioration of the condition of the people of whom we are virtually, though through such wretched intermediate agency, the rulers.

We gladly turn from the distressing consideration of this choice of evils, to contemplate our general position as the absolute masters of the largest and fairest provinces of Hindostan; and the prospects of increasing power and wealth which appear to be opening to us, in inseparable connexion with the improvement of the condition of the millions whom Providence has in so signal a manner committed to our guardianship.

Her means and capabilities being the standard of measurement, India is a very poor country. The great body of her people are lamentably degraded; the moral and intellectual superiority of the classes which are in easy pecuniary circumstances, is exceedingly small. There are proofs every where upon the surface, that, evil as the effects of political tyranny endured for centuries have been, other debasing causes have carried their corrosion more deeply and mischievously into the vitals of society.

The first of those causes is the worst of false Religions; the second the system of Caste ;-a superaddition of moral poison from which the victims of error in other heathen lands, with the exception, it may be, of the ancient Egyptians, have happily been exempt.

Perverse ingenuity, analogous to that which at one time. laboured to demonstrate the superior advantages of the savage state, but sharpened by a disposition to depreciate the temporal blessings which follow in the train of Christianity, has been earnestly employed in arguing that the Hindoos have been grievously misrepresented; and that, if self-love would permit us to hold the balance even, the preponderance of moral excellence in

favour of Christendom would be barely sufficient to turn the scale.

We need not adduce here, for the purpose of exposing them, all the fallacies by which this position has been supported. The most common are founded on the enormous crimes which are too frequently committed in Christian lands, and on the toleration there of too many immoral practices. But there is this grand distinction, that in India the most frightful crimes excite no horror-kindle no indignation; and that the universal moral darkness prevents any one from perceiving that there is any thing wrong, or any thing which is not venial, in practices which the broad light of Christianity exhibits in all their abominable deformity. No native of India suffers any perceptible loss in the estimation of his countrymen from being convicted of fraud, of judicial corruption, or of perjury. The simple impression is, that his being found out argues folly. No native prince or landholder scrupled, to our knowledge, to harbour Thugs, in full cognizance of their dreadful vocation; or to receive, as the price of protection or concealment, a share of the profits of systematic cold-blooded murder: no infamy attached, in the judgment of co-equals, to such participation in the most horrible.

crimes.

The institution of Caste produces the effect which Lord Bacon ascribed to superstition. It dismounts' all the natural motives and emotions, and erects an absolute monarchy in the minds ⚫ of men.' A Brahmin would sooner eat, drink, and consort with a Brahmin Thug, if he thought his own life secure, than with the most virtuous man of low caste. A few years ago, a man was hung at a station near Calcutta for a dreadful murder. The magistrate superintending the execution heard, to his great surprise, unwonted expressions of indignation against the criminal. • It was, indeed,' the English officer remarked, a most barbarous • and unprovoked murder.' That's nothing at all,' was the reply; but the villain, being a man of low caste, has passed himself off in jail as a Rajpoot, and half of his fellow-prisoners have lost caste by their intercourse with him.'

Such is the depth of moral degradation from which the regeneration of India has to commence. To be complete, to be such as true benevolence will rest satisfied with, it must, seemingly, be that regeneration which the mighty and purifying power of Christianity alone can effect. This, humanly speaking, and unless the work proceed in an accelerated ratio upon which we cannot at present calculate, must be the work of ages. And it is clear to our judgment, that it is not desirable, upon the highest grounds, even if consistent with its safety, that the Government

should take part in any direct attempt at conversion. But this restriction observed, two distinct and most important duties devolve upon the ruling power: it should preserve an honest neutrality-doing nothing to foster error, and giving individuals free scope to labour for the promulgation of the truth; and it should dispense to its subjects the greatest possible amount of light, consistent with the necessary reservation.

In both these duties, except as regards the freedom, of late years, of individual exertions, the India Company and its delegates have failed. The obligations of the Government to afford the means of secular education, have been most inadequately fulfilled; and it has voluntarily come forward, in many ways, to bolster the idolatry and superstition of its subjects; for it has by law spontaneously bound itself to interfere, in its executive capacity, to secure the due appropriation of endowments for idolatrous purposes, the most offensive and immoral, as well as for those ostensibly indifferent and harmless. Let the temple of Kali have no more and no less protection than the straw-built preaching station of the Missionary; let the Government take no more and no less account of the funds of Hindoo or Mahomedan religious endowments than of those of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel.

The Government, whilst it leaves the promulgation of religious truth to the zeal of Christian individuals, affording to all parties equal toleration and protection, should make much greater exertions than it has ever yet done for the secular education of its subjects. The extension and elevation of secular education; the improvement of the administration of civil and criminal justice; and the enlargement of internal and external commerce; should be the paramount considerations of the delegated sovereigns of India. The former should be made a separate concern under a Secretary in the Department of Public Instruction: business so momentous should not be doubled up with all the general questions and all the pettiest details of finance-with the management of the salt and opium monopolies-with the affairs of the post-office, of steam-boats, of the excise, and with hundreds of miscellaneous duties. And means should be afforded with a far more liberal hand for placing the blessing of education within the reach of the higher and middling classes in every part of our provinces; and, at the same time, for stimulating them to avail themselves of it. Such is the general stupor, such the want of inter-communication, such the absence of individuals calculated to lead public opinion, that the Government must be emphatically a nursing-mother to the people; left to themselves, they will continue to grovel in the

The original city must have been demolished in very early times, and the finely-wrought fragments are now seen built into the strong walls which have fortified the town raised upon its ruins. The theatre of the ancient city was large, and the most highly and expensively finished that I have ever seen; the seats not only are of marble, as has been the case in most that I have seen, but the marble is highly wrought, and has been polished, and each seat has an overhanging cornice, often supported by lions' paws. The cornices of wreaths, masks, and other designs, are records of a luxurious city. There are also ruins of several other extensive buildings with columns, but their positions are not so good, and they may probably be of the date of the latter town. The most striking feature in the place, is the perfect honeycomb formed in the sides of the Acropolis by excavated tombs, which are cut out of the rock with architectural ornaments, in the forms of temples, &c., some showing considerable taste. Neither at Patara nor here, is there the least trace of inscriptions similar to those at Xanthus ; but there are several in the Greek language, which may assist in deciding the date of the place.'

From hence Mr Fellowes goes to Telmessus, a place remarkable for the number and beauty of its tombs, sculptured in the rocks; representations of which very like those at Kliebse, in Arabia Petræa, are given in his Journal. Travelling northwards, at no great distance from the Gulf of Cos, he visits the ruins of the Corinthian temple at Labranda, and from thence proceeds to Miletus, Ephesus, Laodicea, Hierapolis, Philadelphia, and Sardes, and terminates his journey at Smyrna, from whence he started; having, in the course of three months, made the most complete examination of Anadhouly that has hitherto been laid before the world.

We might easily have drawn more largely than we have done from the narrative of this excursion: we might have quoted descriptions which portray the manners and habits of the people; we might have adduced some curious elucidations of classical authors; and from the Greek inscriptions, which frequently occur, we might have furnished matter for reflection to the critic and the historian. But we shall content ourselves with having recommended to notice a work valuable for its illustrations of the antiquities, the geography, and the physical state of a region of great interest and renown.

ART. IV.-The French Revolution. A History. By THOMAS CARLYLE. Second Edition. 3 vols. 8vo. London: 1839.

FE Ew writers of the present time have risen more rapidly into popularity than Mr Carlyle, after labouring through so long a period of comparative neglect. Whatever judgment critics may be pleased to pass on him, it is certain that his works have attracted of late no common share of attention. His little school of sectaries has expanded into a tolerably wide circle of admirers. His eccentricity of style has become the parent of still greater eccentricities in others, with less genius to recommend them; and his mannerism has already infected, to a certain extent, the fugitive literature of the day. Clever young writers delight in affecting his tone of quaint irony, and indulgent superiority; and many a scribe, whose thoughts have about as much originality as the almanac for the year, fancies that he gives them an air of novelty and impressiveness by clothing them in a barbarous garb, for the fashion of which their prototype must hold himself to a certain extent responsible.

It must be said, in justice to Mr Carlyle, that this unusual success has been bravely achieved by dint of personal energy and merit, and against a host of difficulties. Self-educated, we believe, and nurtured on the very quintessence of German transcendentalism, with little of the ordinary British discipline to counteract it, he could only clothe his own thoughts in the same uncouth foreign livery in which the parent thoughts had been clothed when first his mind received and appropriated them. He seemed a solitary or rare example of one who, in his native country, had unlearned his native language; and was as much a stranger among us as Jean Paul or Ludwig Tieck might have been, if suddenly transferred from their own metaphysical cloud-land to our matter-of-fact atmosphere. His difficulty of expressing his meaning otherwise was palpable and natural; that he was altogether free from affectation, we cannot, in conscience, believe; but the manner had grown very closely to the substance. Accordingly, there were numbers of readers to whom, for a long time, neither wit, nor sense, nor philosophy, could make his lucubrations even tolerable-who were forced to throw them aside almost unattempted, with a pettish si non vis intelligi. That many have greatly altered both their estimate of, and feeling towards him, we attribute partly to the gradual change in himself; for extended French and English reading have made a