attributed to the decrepitude of corrupt civilisations and dying races; and though their fidelity is often able to overcome torture and death, it as often succumbs to the most trivial and meanest temptations.

I am inclined to believe that much of the badness of the Afghans is owing to the influence of Mohammedanism. One might expect that so simple and intelligible a religion, holding the doctrine of the unity of God, and admitting Christ as one of its line of prophets, would be superior in its effects to polytheistic Hinduism, and especially to Brahmanism, the acceptance of which after and in face of Búdhism, involved a moral suicide on the part of the people of India. But certainly my knowledge of India does not support that conclusion. Among a purely Semitic race like the Arabs, secluded among their deserts and at a certain stereotyped stage of thought, Mohammedanism may be good, and it undoubtedly appears to have exercised a beneficial influence in its removal of ancient superstitions; but in the larger sphere and greater complications of modern life it becomes an evil influence, from its essentially Pharisaical character and its want of power to touch the human heart. I need not speak of Christianity or of Búdhism, with their enthusiasm of love and their doctrines of self-sacrifice, but even in Brahmanism there are humanising influences; and in the older Hinduism, as Dr. John Muir has so well shown by his metrical translations, the law of love finds an important place. It is not even It is not even the worst of Mohammedanism that it is a system of external observances and mechanical devotion. Its central idea, as elaborated to-day, is that of the Creator and Governor of the universe as a merciless tyrant, ruling after the caprice of a fathomless will, breaking the clay of

humanity into two pieces, throwing the one to the right saying, "These into heaven, and I care not ;" and the other to the left saying, "These into hell, and I care not." Whenever God is thus regarded as an arbitrary tyrant, instead of an allloving Father whose dealings with His children transcend our knowledge but do not revolt our moral consciousness, religion, or rather that which takes its place, becomes a frightful instrument of evil; and even when the natural working of the human heart is too strong to allow of its being carried out practically to its logical conclusions, on the other hand, it prevents our higher sympathies from being of much practical use. It is worthy of such a system that it should regard a few external observances, and the mere utterance of such a formula as, "There is no God but God, and Mohammed is His prophet," as insuring an entrance into heaven, and that its heaven should be one of purely sensual delight. I do not mean to say that Mohammed is responsible for all that Mohammedanism has become; for even in this case there has been manifested that curious tendency of religions to thrust forward and deify that which their founders began with repudiating and condemning; but he is in great part responsible, and of all famous books in the world, the Kurán is about the least edifying.

Hardy, brave, mean, and wicked a people as the Afghans are, they are great lovers of poetry, and have produced not a little poetry of a high order. They are very fond, at night, round their camp-fires, of reciting verses, and these verses are usually of a melancholy kind, relating to love, war, the unsatisfactoriness of all earthly enjoyment, and the cruelty of fate. Captain H. G. Raverty has rendered a great service

in presenting us with an almost literal translation of the productions of the more famous Afghan poets;* and these do not at all make the Afghan character more intelligible. When the women of a village ventured to come out to look at me, usually

some man with a big stick drove them away with heavy blows, and remarks upon them which even a Rabelais would have hesitated to report; yet the Afghans have romantic ideas of love, and are fond of singing these beautiful lines:

Of the despairing melancholy of the Afghan poets it would be easy to quote many instances; but I prefer to give the following example,

also translated by Captain Raverty, by a chief of the clan Khattak, of their stirring war songs:

One day's march from Hoti Mardán, or Murdan, I was handed over to the care of an escort of the Panjáb Guides, a famous regiment which is usually quartered in that fort. Its officers showed great hospitality and kindness, and especially Captain Hutchinson, whom I had met at Hardwar, as also in Kashmír, and whose shooting expeditions had made him familiar with some of the remotest parts of the Himáliya and with the regions lying to the north of Kashmir. He had just returned from a journey into Gilgit, which he described as exceedingly barren and stony; and his quarters in the fort were adorned with many trophies of the chase, including quite a pile of the skins of the great snowbear.

Elsewhere, I heard a story of an officer who, on getting leave after a long period of close service, went up and spent his leave at this little remote fort of Hoti Mardán, where he had formerly been stationed. That was adduced as a remarkable instance of English eccentricity; but I can quite appreciate the man's choice. The officers of a crack regiment in an isolated position make very good company; there is excellent sport of various kinds, including hawking, to be had at Mardán; there is just enough of personal danger connected with a residence there to keep one lively; interesting expeditions may be made along

or across the frontier; the whole country round is full of important antiquities; and the climate during great part of the year is delightful.

According to the regimental records of temperature for the year 1872, the thermometer (in the open air, but in a position sheltered from the sun), had, in the month of January, an extreme range from 27° to 64° and a mean range from 46° to 52°. In February, the extreme range was from 32° to 73°, and the mean from 48° to 52°. In April, the extreme range was 53° to 91°, and the mean 69° to 82°. The hottest month was June, when the extreme range was 70° to 109°, and the mean 92° to 100°. That sounds very dreadful; but the pure and excessively dry air of these regions does not make a temperature of 100° so intolerable as a temperature of 80° is in the moist regions of the coast, or during the rainy season, in those parts of India which are much exposed to the influence of the southwest monsoon. Evaporation of moisture from the skin and clothes is the great source of coolness in a hot country; and, of course, the drier the air is, the greater the evaporation and consequent coolness, while, the more the air is loaded with moisture, the less is the evaporation from our persons, and the more we become like furnaces sur

rounded by some non-heat-conducting substance. So early as Septem

ber, the climate begins to be delightful at Hoti Mardán, the temperature for that month having an extreme range from 57° to 98°, and a mean of from 70° to 80°. After that it rapidly approaches the results given for January, and becomes bracing as well as pleasant.

I went out hawking with the officers one day, and we had some very fine sport, following the birds on horseback, and being much amused by a large black vulture-a pirate bird-which once or twice made its appearance just when the falcon had hunted down its prey, and proceeded to act on the principle of sie vos non vobis, which appears to be one of the fundamental characteristics of organic life. Apart from its cruelty (which need not be expatiated on, seeing that all action we know of involves cruelty) the action of the falcon was very beautiful as it steadily pursued its prey, a species of crane, I think, and swooping down upon it, struck it again and again on the base of the skull, sending out a small cloud of feathers at every stroke, until the brain was laid open and the bird succumbed.

Some of the officers at Fort Mardán did not trouble themselves to carry arms, relying upon their sticks or heavy hunting - whips; but this was unwise. Fort Michni was in sight, and there Major Macdonald had a stick when Behram Khan and the Khan's brother went up to him and fired into him with guns from close quarters. A stick becomes a satire in such circumstances. Even arms, however, are not always a sufficient defence from Afghan assassins. Lieutenant Ommaney, a promising young officer in civil employ, was killed in Hoti Mardán by a scoundrel who presented him with a petition to read,

and then stabbed him suddenly when the Englishman was engaged in looking over the paper. In this case Mr. M'Nab, the acting commissioner of the district, on hearing of the affair at night, rode immediately over from Peshawar to Mardán, a distance of over thirty miles, and had the murderer hanged next morning-possibly without a very strict regard to legal forms, but in a summary manner, which served to put a check, for the time at least, upon what was threatening to become a too common Afghan amusement.

The Panjab Guides is a rather peculiar regiment, being composed half of foot-soldiers and half of horsemen, most of whom are Afghans, and many from beyond our border. They are a splendid set of men, and the regiment has always been kept in an admirably effective state. In the Panjab Mutiny Report* it is said that at the outbreak of the great Indian Mutiny "the Guide Corps marched from Mardán six hours after it got the order, and was at Attok (30 miles off) next morning, fully equipped for service, 'a worthy beginning,' writes Colonel Edwards, of one of the rapidest marches ever made by soldiers; for, it being necessary to give General Anson every available man to attempt the recovery of Delhi, the Guides were not kept for the movable column, but were pushed on to Delhi, a distance of 580 miles, or 30 regular marches, which they accomplished in 21 marches, with only three intervening halts, and these made by order. After thus marching 27 miles a-day for three weeks, the Guides reached Delhi on 9th June, and three hours afterwards engaged the enemy hand to hand, every officer being more or less wounded.'” That shows the

splendid state of efficiency in which the Guides were kept. They did something of the same kind in 1872, or the beginning of 1873, when sent to the camp of exercise at Hassan Abdúl, and I doubt not they would do it to morrow if necessary. This regiment had only about half-a-dozen European officers when I saw it; but then it was pretty well beyond the reach of the so-called philanthropic influences which have weakened and are destroying our position in India. The officers were free to rule their men; and the consequence was, that the soldiers not only looked up to, but liked, and were proud of, their officers. I must repeat emphatically, that ability to rule wisely is the only condition on which we have any right to be in India at all, and that the instant we depart from that ground, trouble and disaster commence, whatever the character of that departure may be-whether it consist in having inferior English agents in the country or in curbing the hands of the capable ones-whether in stupid want of appreciation of the natives of India or in weak pandering to their insaner ambitions.

Hoti Mardán, as well as the whole northern portion of our transIndus territory, is associated with the name of a very extraordinary man-General John Nicholson, who was mortally wounded at the siege of Delhi. No Englishman, at least of late years, appears to have left so powerful a personal impression upon the Afghan mind. I found it to be quite true that the Patháns of our district believe that they hear the hoofs of Nicholson's horse ringing over the trans-Indus plain at night, and that that country shall never pass from our possession

so long as these sounds are heard. In the Institute at Delhi there is an oil-painting of him which was made after his death, partly from a small sketch and partly from memory. It represents him as having had a long head and face, with dark hair, and a very finely-formed white forehead. In some respects it reminded me of the portrait of Sir Harry Vane in Ham House, and suggested more a man of contemplation than of action; but that is not an unfrequent characteristic in the countenances of great soldiers.

One of Nicholson's most splendid achievements was performed near this fort of Hoti Mardán. He was deputy commissioner of the district. at the time of the outbreak of the Mutiny, when matters were in a most critical position, and the disaffected native soldiers were urged to move by the Hindústhani sepoys below, and were in correspondence with the Afghan and other fanatics of Swat and Sitana. If the Panjáb saved India, it was our transIndus district, which was the most dangerous in the Panjáb, and it was John Nicholson, more emphatically than any one other man, who saved our trans-Indus possession. The place of the Panjab Guides, when they were despatched to Delhi, was taken by the 55th Native Infantry and the 10th Irregular Cavalry, the first of which threatened to murder their officers, and the second to "roast" the civil officer, of the station. A very small force was sent to Mardán to deal with them, and it was accompanied by Nicholson as political officer, and on its approach, the 55th Regiment broke and took to the hills. It was in the end of the month of May, and he had been twenty hours in the saddle, under a burning sun, and had ridden seventy miles that day,*