they were harmless, they were insignificant, never having given themselves the trouble to exert the energies of virtue.

Many persons conceive they are greatly benefiting the cause of public virtue by endeavouring to eternize the memory of a late honest politician, whose life it seems was every way irreproachable. But, although he could have been no ordinary man, who was able to behave with firmness and without reproach in public and private life, not having united genius with innocence, he was no subject for fame. Men have no permanent sympathy for any thing but intellectual power, and experience a feeling of burlesque as often as they attempt to attach eminent importance to qualities merely amiable; such attributes never being the ground of great reputation, or impressing upon mankind that sense of awe and admiration which is ever the effect of intellectual greatness. Socrates is not considered the pattern of humanity for his patient bearing towards Xantippe, for his goodness as a father, as a friend, as a citizen; in these respects, many, perhaps, whom fame never heard of, have equalled him ; he is looked upon as the first of men, because, to an incomparable genius, he united the energy of active virtue, with passion and dignity, and indifference for riches, and poverty, and death. His character was divine, because his virtues were the offspring, not of natural instincts or tendencies, but of genius and study; of that genius which generated the minds of Plato, of Xenophon, of Aristotle; that is, carried human nature as far as intellect can carry it. One may easily perceive by this the folly of attempting to excite an artificial enthusiasm for an inferior individual, whether before or after death; his portion is and should be oblivion.

Every prejudice in society may be traced more or less immediately to government, and among others the irrational respect thought to be due to the dead. Princes not very distinguished in general for virtue, feel from the eminences of their station a peculiar repugnance to scrutiny, and consider attacks upon a predecessor as nothing less than the first approaches of envy, as they term it, towards their own persons. But if the sovereign protects his own immediate ancestors from deserved censure, he can, with no face of justice, refuse the same privilege to his courtiers; to render his protection effectual he must procure the sanction of the laws thus the principle is acknowledged, and it henceforth becomes criminal to speak the truth of any respectable villain. This is the true source of that trembling anxiety with which the memory of the dead is watclied in monarchical governments, being a consequence of that principle which makes truth a libel. As it is only an ingenious expedient to screen the vices of the prince, it should have no existence in a free country, in which virtue ought ever to be valued above peace; and as virtue is generated by praise and emulation, it must necessarily languish where it is confounded by the laws with vice and immorality, by being inclosed within the same pale of protection. It is said, and of course very truly, that although the laws in monarchical governments forbid men to express their real sentiments of each other, they have no power to force them into wrong conceptions of character, and that thus virtue is actually respected and vice detested in spite of the laws. This is saying nothing more than that the laws have no power over our thoughts; but it is because we dare not speak what we do think that these laws are vicious and tyrannical. High personages, as we have seen, such as kings and ministers, have their vices protected by the laws even after death;

to expose their faults, to show what they were, to say to mankind, "these were the gods ye worshipped!" is libellous, either because it is said to bring the government into contempt, or to tend to disturb the "king's peace. History itself lowers its voice and treads softly, as it draws near present times, lest it should provoke the notice of the Attorney-General, be fined, and sent to the King's Bench prison to reflect upon the matter.

All this is a strong indication that the love of fame and dread of infamy act very powerfully on the minds of princes, though the love of pleasure and dominion is found, in the greater number, to be still more powerful. They are flattered too by the hope of eluding obloquy by cunning devices, such as keeping in pay poet-laureates, historiographers, news-writers, &c., who, with the nicest sophistry, gild over their crimes, and convert their frailties and follies into subjects of praise and congratulation. One monarch makes petticoats with peculiar neatness for the Virgin Mary; another is a connoisseur in coat-making; a third fishes with great felicity; a fourth understands to perfection the composition of soups and ragouts. This is matter of praise during the lifetime of the illustrious cooks and fishermen : as, while Nero and Domitian lived, it was matter of praise that the former was an amateur actor and poet, and the latter an expert fly-catcher; but the most loyal writer living does not now go out of his way to sing the praises of those old legitimates for the above-mentioned princely accomplishments, though, in a reigning monarch, they would strain hard to find something laudable in such practices. However, as we said, the mere fact of princes maintaining a menagerie of poets, newsmongers, and historians, to display their magnificence, is a proof that they are unwilling to be branded with infamy after death, to leave behind them a name odious to the ears of men, and inserted in the Index Expurgatorius of renown. From this hint mankind might draw a useful lesson. Kings of past ages are free game: their vices are not sacred; William the Norman, or Louis XI., or Richard III., may be held up to execration with impunity. Let men carry their reflections into futurity, and imagine they hear the judgments of their remote descendants; it will considerably dispel the mist through which they always look at present objects.

Coarse matter-of-fact reasoners contend, we are aware, that nothing short of the dread of personal punishment can deter the powerful from crime. But princes, they perceive, are most anxious to transmit the power they possess to their offspring, and also are persuaded that all power is engrafted on opinion; their reason, therefore, must inform them that the fortunes of their race will depend very much upon their present conduct and the reputation they shall leave behind them; and although their unchastened passions, and the insolence of sovereignty, often lead them into the most shameless excesses, it is clear, from their solicitude to ward off its point, that they consider fame to be the weapon which God has put into the hands of mankind to avenge themselves on their tyrants. A prince, succeeding to a wicked father, must read in the ambiguous countenances of all around him, in spite of the jussus vultus for which courtiers are celebrated, that he is viewed, like the dawn that follows a tempestuous night, with doubt and awe; and if ever he visits the tombs of his forefathers, must shudder to think that the dust before him, the parental dust, though cased in marble, and covered by trophies

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and monuments of glory, is execrated by his people, who long in their hearts to trample it in the dunghill, as the most hateful offal of humanity. When the Romans dragged the mangled carcase of Nero through the streets, the reigning Emperor might have read the fate, under similar circumstances, of his own remains; and it is the fellowfeeling, produced by a reflection of this kind, that has induced so many sovereigns to be respectful to the corses of their deceased enemies. It is certain, then, that princes are bitterly stung by the odium cast upon the memory of departed tyrants; their hearts sicken at the bare mention of Caligula and Elagabalus. How much more if such men had been their own ancestors, their immediate predecessors, their fathers! Let such reasoners imagine in their own hands a sceptre haunted by the associations that would unavoidably arise in such a case, and they will hardly doubt so pertinaciously the influence of fame.

The desire, indeed, of posthumous reputation is natural to all men, and is a powerful auxiliary to virtue; but to an acute observer the value of this reputation must appear considerably diminished, when it is seen with how little regard to truth and justice fame is sometimes bestowed. For if the mind be warmed by the reflection that, in spite of time and death, it shall leave the remembrance of its excellence impressed upon the hearts and memories of men, its hopes are also shocked and checked when it considers the characters of its associates, and their slight claim to be exempt from oblivion. The mansion of fame appears under this view an immense granary, in which the chaff of humanity is preserved with as much care as the grain. If we would winnow this chaff away, it can only be done by respecting the claims of truth; in short, by calling men, whether dead or living, by their right appellations. We owe, therefore, no respect to the dead, because they are dead, but only inasmuch as they were respectable when living; consequently, the maxim "de mortuis nil nisi bonum," is wicked and pernicious.

7

PICTURE OF THE NATIVE GOVERNMENT OF HYDERABAD,

BY AN EYE-WITNESS.

THE real condition of the native states of India, whether independent, or enjoying what is called British protection, is at any time but imperfectly known to European readers. Recent inquiries respecting the state of Hyderabad, arising out of the transactions developed in the Papers lately printed by order of the Proprietors of India stock, have, perhaps, made some Englishmen better acquainted with the affairs of that Native Government than with those of any other in the East; and the interest excited by such knowledge appears to have induced a strong wish for more. It is true, that these Official Papers, and Mr. Russell's printed Letter, which appeared about the same period, have exposed much that was before hidden, and which, but for the motion of Mr. Kinnaird for the production of the first, would probably never have seen the light. We hear, also, that there is more than one work preparing for the press on the subject of the transactions between the Nizam's Government and the British authorities at Hyderabad and Calcutta. All this, as it promotes publicity, must do good; for all that is required to obtain universal condemnation of the system by which states under British protection are governed in the East, is to make the evils of which it is so productive universally known. With this impression, we give insertion to the following article, from the pen of an intelligent observer, who drew the sad picture which it presents of the state of things at Hyderabad, about the period at which the discussions respecting the loans to that state were commencing; and who, being unable to publish it in India, from his being at a Presidency where the censorship existed in full force, reserved it in his portfolio until a favourable opportunity might occur for its appearance in England. That period has now arrived, and it has been accordingly transmitted to us for publication: an example which, we hope, will be followed by many other retired Indians in England, who must have similar materials in their possession relating to other parts of India, and who, by making them public in a similar manner, would have the happiness of contributing, without much exertion, to the improvement of India, and the consequent advantage of England; benefiting at once the country from which they have acquired their fortunes, and the country to which they have retired to enjoy them.

The sovereign power of the Hyderabad state is nominally vested in the Nizam. As, however, the whole military power, both there and in the surrounding country, is under the control of the British Government, the sovereignty is covertly, but substantially, exercised under its authority. The Nizam is a huge, fat, lazy, effeminate man; a sort of hermaphrodite. He is devoted to sensual and Cyprian habits. His physical powers are enervated, and his mental faculties destroyed by debauchery. This prince seldom quits his seraglio, from whence he issues his mandates, which are usually communicated by women. He never holds a durbar (or audience) but when it is deemed unavoidable. The Subah feels a jealous suspicion towards his relations, and seldom receives his sons except on the 1st day

of the Mohammedan year. His authority, both legislative and judicial, is entirely controlled by the British Resident; and even the Native nobility barely acknowledge the supremacy of their lawful sovereign.

The British Resident, being far removed from the Supreme Government, it is by them, perhaps, thought necessary to grant him large power; and since this power is not direct, but carried on by influence, he exercises a delegated sovereignty, and is in reality almost absolute.

The Resident's measures are carried into execution by the Nizam's Minister, whose chief aim seems to be to delude his Prince, and to extort money from his fellow-subjects. He has thus contrived to abolish the office of treasurer, and to devote the whole amount of the revenue to the payment of the current expenses; so that the Nizam has now no means left, except such as are deposited in his private treasury at Golcondah. It is this poverty of his public treasury which places him at the mercy of British protection.

The taxes are imposed, and the revenues are collected, in the most arbitrary manner possible. Extortion and corruption prevail among all classes, from the Minister and his associates down to the landlord and the peasant. If a jagheerdar, or land-owner, becomes rich, he is called upon to pay a heavy tribute to the state. The jagheerdar, to throw this burden from his own shoulders, endeavours, by persuasion or violent measures, to screw the money out of the pockets of the poor ryots or cultivators. Should be fail in this, he then defies the Minister, and breaks into open rebellion ; or, if secured before he escapes, he is hurried off to the capital, there to be incarcerated in a dungeon, and to undergo every degree of torture, till he satisfies the Minister's demand, or expires under the infliction of punishment.

The ryots or cultivators, in their turn, experience the same treatment from the jagheerdars or land-owners. When the ryots fall into arrear of rents, whether from the failure of their crops, or from excessive assessment, they are treated with the most barbarous cruelty. It would be in vain for them to think of redress: there is no hope even of this for the poor. Tyranny drives them to despair, and they can only be released from their sufferings by the payment of money which they do not possess. Reduced to this condition, they often fly to the hills, and there embrace a savage life, in order to escape from the evils of a more degraded and a more suffering state. They there enlist under some desperate chief, who has become obnoxious to the Minister, from his talents, his intrigue, or his valour. Under this adventurer they make excursions, and rob the villages throughout the country. The jagheerdars themselves frequently connive at these depredations, and receive a share of the spoil taken even from their own tenants. It cannot be matter of wonder that, under such a system, the people should be vicious and unruly; the wonder rather is, that men should suffer so patiently as they do, without desperate and bloody resistance, under a Government where not even the shadow of justice can be obtained, where the life of any person may be purchased for the smallest sum, and where crimes of the deepest die, not excepting even murder, may be redeemed by bribery or fine.

In a country, over the whole face of which such vices as these prevail, it may readily be conceived that the metropolis is the point to which they converge. Accordingly we find that the city of Hyderabad is the