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better our Government has not There is no call for such a sacrimoney enough to secure an adequate fice on the part of the Government. supply of honest officials, by which A thirty years' settlement, such as means alone the scandalous abuses, has prevailed in the North-West of which all parties are painfully Provinces and in Bombay, is now conscious, can be remedied. In being extended to all India (with the education of the natives, again, the exception, of course, of Bengal). a field of expenditure opens out And such a settlement gives ample upon us, which will grow greater scope for the cultivator to reap the every year for a century to come, reward of his improvements. We and which it behoves us to supply, have already shown how rapidly the if we are desirous of laying a firm area of cultivation is extending in and worthy basis for our rule. This Bombay under such a settlement; is the normal condition of affairs in and similar progress, under the same India: every year a rise in the ex- settlement, is open to the other propenses of Government-or, at least, vinces. The operation of the settleadditional wants and occasions of ment is this:-At each period of expense, which the Government revision, the amount of the landknows it would be for its advantage tax is fixed according to the actual to meet if it could. produce of the soil; and thereafter the farmer can go on improving and extending his cultivation, rendering his old fields more productive, and taking new ones into cultivation, for thirty years, without having the assessment raised one iota. What would our farmers think if they could obtain such terms and leases as that? A nineteen years' lease is an exceptionally long one in this country; moreover, in such leases, the rent is made higher than the actual productiveness of the farm warrants at the time the lease is granted, in order that a portion of the future increase of profit on the farm may be secured to the landlord. But in the Indian settlements no such consideration is admitted. The surveyor assesses simply on the actual produce of the farm, estimated at the current prices; so that every rise of price, and every improvement or extension of cultivation, for thirty years afterwards, is a clear gain to the farmer. Such an arrangement, we maintain, is the height of liberality. Thirty years is the lifetime of a generation. Each Indian farmer virtually gets a lease of his ground for a lifetime; and thus he is allowed to reap the full profit of every improvement which the work of his hands or the ingenuity of his brain can effect. If our Indian subjects will not be industrious upon such terms, any fur

But the circumstances of India are at present not normal,-which makes the case worse. A new element of change is at work upon her. For some years past, the precious metals have been pouring into 'India at the rate of twelve millions sterling a-year, and prices are rising enormously. In Calcutta, prices are now double what they were ten or twelve years ago; and in the provinces, the rise during the same period has been upwards of fifty per cent. The rise is still in progress, and is likely, nay certain, to continue for many years. Surely, then, the present is the very worst time that could possibly be selected for fixing for all time, by a "perpetual settlement," the amount of the land-revenue. Twenty years hence, in all probability, the present amount of the land-revenue (and of all the taxes) will, owing to the rise of prices, be only worth half its value at the present time-will only go half as far in defraying the expenditure of the State, while that expenditure, as we have shown, must continue to increase in amount. In such circumstances, to fix the amount of the land-tax at a certain sum for all time would manifestly be the height of folly. It would fatally cripple the power and resources of the Indian Government. It would be an act of political suicide.

ther bounty would be equally fruitless. The annual settlement in Madras is a most objectionable arrangement, in every point of view, and we are glad that it is being swept away; but under the thirty years' settlement, we may rely upon it, that every improvement in cultivation will take place which can fairly be expected.

A thirty years' settlement of the land-tax then, combined with a cautious application of the principle of redemption, and with a simple process for the sale of the waste lands at a very low price, are the right measures to be adopted in solution of the Land-question of India. But there is one further step which we think might be taken. Though the amount of the land-tax ought not to be fixed for all time, we may permanently fix the proportion which the assessment is to bear to the value of the produce. Let it be declared that the ratio of the landtax to the value of the produce shall never vary, or at least shall never be increased. This mode of "fixing the land-tax," we think, may be

adopted with advantage: but to fix the amount of the tax would be a ruinous folly, an act of madness, the result of a delusion which we are at a loss even to explain.*

Hitherto Sir Charles Wood has been disposed to act prudently in the matter. He blundered, indeed, in the cumbrous conditions which he imposed upon the sale of the waste lands; and in his justifiable opposition to Lord Canning's too sweeping application of the principle of redemption, he has been led to overlook the cautious proposal of Lord Stanley on the same subject. But at length he has allowed the clamour of a few noisy men to drive him from his policy of prudence, and to obtain from him a promise that the "perpetual settlement" shall be gradually introduced into all India. This must never be done. We shall be disappointed, indeed, if Sir Charles Wood has not already repented of his promise. Such a promise on his part is so totally at variance with all his former policy and opinions, that we cannot regard it otherwise than

Although we fully believe that a thirty years' settlement, on the present system, is the safest and best mode of settling this branch of the land-question, we feel so deeply the importance of preventing the adoption of a "perpetual settlement," as proposed by Sir C. Trevelyan and others, that we suggest another alternative :Let it be enacted that the assessment shall only be made upon the quantity of produce at present yielded by the land; and that any increase in that quantity shall, at the successive periods of revision, be free from assessment, save as regards any increase which may take place in its value, owing to a rise of prices.

Suppose that the proportion which the assessment is to bear to the value of the land is one-fifth of the gross produce, the system would work in this manner: In the case of a piece of ground which yields ten maunds of rice, the price of rice at the time being two rupees per maund, the amount of land-tax would be (205) four rupees; and if, when the next settlement is made, the quantity of produce should be the same, but the price per maund has risen one-half, then the amount of the tax would be six rupees. But suppose that, by improved cultivation, the produce has been increased in quantity to fifteen maunds, while no rise in price has taken place, the Government tax will undergo no increase, but remain at four rupees as before. Finally, suppose that both the quantity and the value of the produce have increased one-half, then the Government will raise the tax upon the quantity originally produced (ten maunds) from four rupees to six; but will charge nothing on the five additional maunds, save one-fifth of the enhancement of value occasioned by rise in prices. In other words, the total value of the produce being now forty-five rupees (instead of twenty, as at first), the Government will deduct from that sum ten rupees (the value of five maunds at the time of the original settlement), and assess on only thirty-five rupees-making the land-tax (355) seven rupees. In this way an augmentation of the land-revenue would take place proportionate to the gradual alteration that may be expected in the value of money in India. The augmentation would be occasioned entirely by the rise in the price of rice and other producewith which rise of prices the cultivation has clearly had nothing to do.

as a hasty and inconsiderate concession to the folly of others, a sin against his own better judgment. We appeal to Philip sober-and we trust that when the right hon. Baronet makes his annual statement on the finances of India a few weeks hence, he will have rerevised his opinions (as he used to do his budgets), and not stamp with his approval a passing folly of the hour, which would idly lay the

axe at the foundation of our Indian revenue. The question is one of pre-eminent importance to the future stability and popularity of our Indian Government. And amidst the present mêlée and conflict of opinions, we desire to submit a fair statement of the case, and what we believe to be the best and safest solution of the question, to the consideration of our legislators and the public.

CORNELIUS O'DOWD UPON MEN AND WOMEN, AND OTHER THINGS

IN GENERAL.

PART IV.

GARIBALDI.

WE had a very witty Judge in Ireland, who was not very scrupulous about giving hard knocks to his brothers on the bench, and who, in delivering a judgment in a cause, found that he was to give the casting-vote between his two colleagues, who were diametrically opposed to each other, and who had taken great pains to lay down the reasons for their several opinions at considerable length. "It now comes to my turn," said he, "to declare my view of this case, and fortunately I can afford to be brief. I agree with my brother B. from the irresistible force of the admirable argument of my brother M."

The story occurred to me as I thought over Garibaldi and the enthusiastic reception you are giving him in England; for I really felt, if it had not been for Carlyle, I might have been a bit of a hero-worshipper myself. The grand frescoes in caricature of the popular historian have, however, given me a hearty and wholesome disgust to the whole thing; not to say that, however enthusiastic a man may feel about his idol, he must be sorely ashamed of his fellow-worshippers. "Lie down with dogs, and you'll get up with fleas," says an old Irish adage; but what, in the name of all entomolo

gy, is a man to get up with who lies down with these votaries of Garibaldi? So fine a fellow, and so mangy a following, it would be hard to find. The opportunity for all the valiant balderdash of shopkeeping eloquence, of that high "Falootin" style so popular over the Atlantic, of those grand-sounding periods about freedom and love of country, was not to be lost by a set of people who, in all their enthusiasm for Garibaldi, are intently bent on making themselves foreground figures in the tableau that should have been filled by himself alone.

"Sir Francis Burdett call you his friend!-as well call a bug his bedfellow!" said the sturdy old yeoman, whose racy English I should like to borrow, to characterise the stupid incongruity between Garibaldi and his worshippers. It is not easy to conceive anything finer, simpler, more thoroughly unaffected, or more truly dignified, than the man himself. His noble head; his clear, honest, brown eye; his finely-traced mouth, beautiful as a woman's, and only strung up to sternness when anything ignoble or mean had outraged him; and, last of all, his voice contains a fascination perfectly irresistible, allied,

as you knew and felt these graces were, with a thoroughly pure, untarnished nature. The true measure of the man lies in the fact that, though his life has been a series of the boldest and most daring achievements, his courage is about the very last quality uppermost in your mind when you meet him. It is of the winning softness of his look and manner, his kind thoughtfulness for others, his sincere pity for all suffering, his gentleness, his modesty, his manly sense of brotherhood with the very humblest of the men who have loved him, that you think: these are the traits that throw all his heroism into shadow; and all the glory of the conqueror pales before the simple virtues of the man.

He never looked to more advantage than in that humble life of Caprera, where people came and went-some, old and valued friends, whose presence warmed up their host's heart; others, mere passing acquaintances, or, as it might be, not even that; worshippers or curiosity-seekers-living where and how they could in that many-roomed small house; diving into the kitchen to boil their coffee; sallying out to the garden to pluck their radishes; down to the brook for a cress, or to the seaside to catch a fish,-all more or less busy in the midst of a strange idleness; for there was not-beyond providing for the mere wants of the day-anything to be done. The soil would not yield anything. There was no cultivation outside that little garden, where the grand old soldier delved, or rested on his spade-handle as he turned his gaze over the sea, doubtless thinking of the dear land beyond it.

At dinner-and what a strange meal it was-all met, full of the little incidents of an uneventful day. The veriest trifles they were, but of interest to those who listened, and to none more than Garibaldi himself, who liked to hear who had been over to Maddalena, and what sport they had; or whether Albanesi had taken any mullet,

VOL. XCV.-NO. DLXXXIII.

and who it was said he could mend the boat? and who was to paint her? Not a word was spoken of the political events of the world, and every mention of them was as rigidly excluded as though a government spy had been seated at the table.

He rarely spoke himself, but was a good listener-not merely hearing with attention, but showing, by an occasional suggestion or a hint, how his mind speculated on the subject before him. If, however, led to speak of himself or his exploits, the unaffected ease and simplicity of the man became at once evident. Never, by any chance, would an expression escape him that redounded to his own share in any achievement; without any studied avoidance the matter would somehow escape, or, if accidentally touched on, be done so very lightly as to make it appear of no moment whatever.

To have done one-tenth of what Garibaldi has done, a man must necessarily have thrown aside scruples which he would never have probably transgressed in his ordinary life. He must have been often arbitrary, and sometimes almost cruel; and yet, ask his followers, and they will tell you that punishment scarcely existed in the force under his immediate command-that the most hardened offender would have quailed more under a few stern words of reproof from "the General" than from a sentence that sent him to a prison.

That, to effect his purpose, he would lay hands on what he needed, not recklessly or indifferently, but thoughtfully and doubtless regretfully, we all know. I can remember an instance of this kind, related to me by a British naval officer, who himself was an actor in the scene. "It was off La Plata," said my informant, "when Garibaldi was at war with Rosas, that the frigate I commanded was on that station, as well as a small gun-brig of the Sardinian navy, whose captain never harassed his men by

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exercises of gunnery, and, indeed, whose ship was as free from any 'beat to quarters,' or any sudden summons to prepare for boarders, as though she had been a floating chapel.

Garibaldi came alongside me one day to say that he had learned the Sardinian had several tons of powder on board, with an ample supply of grape, shell, and canister, not to speak of twelve hundred stand of admirable arms. 'I want them all,' said he; 'my people are fighting with staves and knives, and we are totally out of ammunition. I want them, and he won't let me have them.' "He could scarcely do so,' said I, 'seeing that they belong to his Government, and are not in his hands to bestow.'

"For that reason I must go and take them,' said Garibaldi. 'I mean to board him this very night, and you'll see if we do not replenish our powder-flasks.'

"In that case,' said I, 'I shall have to fire on you. It will be Piracy; nothing else.'

"You'll not do so?' said he, smiling.

"Yes, I promise you that I will. We are at peace and on good terms with Sardinia, and I cannot behave other than as a friend to her ships of war.'

"There's no help for it, then,' said Garibaldi, 'if you see the thing in that light:' and goodhumouredly quitted the subject, and soon after took his leave."

66

And were you," asked I of my informant, Captain S.-" were you perfectly easy after that conversation? I mean, were you fully satisfied that he would not attempt the matter in some other way?"

"Never more at ease in my life. I knew my man; and that, having left me under the conviction he had abandoned the exploit, nothing on earth would have tempted him to renew it in any shape."

It might be a matter of great doubt whether any greater intellectual ability would not have rather detracted from than in

creased Garibaldi's power as a popular leader. I myself feel assured that the simplicity, the trustfulness, the implicit reliance on the goodness of a cause as a reason for its success, are qualities which no mere mental superiority could replace in popular estimation. It is actually Love is the sentiment the Italians have for him; and I have seen them, hard-featured, ay, and hard-natured men, moved to tears as the litter on which Garibaldi lay wounded was carried down to the place of embarkation.

Garibaldi has always been a thoughtful, silent, reflective man, not communicative to others, or in any way expansive; and from these qualities have come alike his successes and his failures. Of the conversations reported of him by writers I do not believe a syllable. He speaks very little; and, luckily for him, that little only with those on whose integrity he could rely not to repeat him.

Cavour, who knew men thoroughly, and studied them just as closely as he studied events, understood at once that Garibaldi was the man he wanted. He needed one who should move the national heart-who, sprung from the people himself, and imbued with all the instincts of his class, should yet not dissever the cause of liberty from the cause of monarchy. To attach Garibaldi to the throne was no hard task. The King, who led the van of his army, was an idol made for such worship as Garibaldi's. The monarch who could carry a knapsack and a heavy rifle over the cliffs of Monte Rosa from sunrise to sunset, and take his meal of hard bread before he "turned in " at night in a shepherd's shieling, was a King after the bold buccaneer's own heart.

To what end inveigh against the luxuries of a court, its wasteful splendours, or its costly extravagance, with such an example? This strong-sinewed, big-boned, unpoetical King has been the hardest nut ever republicanism had to crack!

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