istry of the day, who then lost, as we believe, the best possible opportunity for carrying out a measure of which the effect appears to be much misunderstood, inasmuch as it seems to be very generally believed that it would have removed, and that it will remove, difficulties due not to any insufficiency of the sovereign's titles, but to hesitating, weak, and inconsistent action very much in keeping with the prime minister's late unhappy definition[1] of the position of the native feudatory chiefs, which was at once questioned by the able and experienced Indian officer[2] fortunately at hand to correct it, and to point out that of the native rulers of states within British India none are, and none can be, "sovereign princes,"—a fact which cannot be too clearly proclaimed, or too unflinchingly insisted on. It is most improbable that on the masses of India either the prince's visit, or the change in the sovereign's titles, can have any considerable effect. Indeed, to most of them these things are a seven days' wonder, and nothing more. They are naturally occupied with their own surroundings, and scarcely look beyond them. Police requirements, judicial decrees, and revenue demands—by these they test, and are not very wrong in testing, the government under which they live. To them it has ever mattered little whether they rendered allegiance to the Great Mogul, the "Kumpani Buhadoor," or the queen of England. They have been contented if free from police oppression, ruinous judicial processes, excessive revenue demands, and, though last not least, interference with their caste and religion. That they prefer "to be ruled by persons rather than by systems," has been lately put forward, on what authority we know not. Nor is the purpose of this assertion more intelligible, bearing in mind that no change in the form of government is contemplated, or at all probable. But although the masses in India may not "understand the mysteries of our constitution," they can be influenced by those who do. The educated and higher classes understand both the use and the abuse of the power existing in England to reverse any order passed in India. Lord Lawrence, who ought to be an unusually competent judge,[3] told the House of Commons' select committee, "The natives of India would not like it to be laid down that Parliament could not interfere, or would not interfere. I think, whether it is for good or for evil, they value that power which Parliament has of interfering." The late address of the Calcutta Association to Mr. Fawcett sufficiently proves that educated Indians are well able to appreciate the functions and power of the British Parliament.
From Blackwood's Magazine.
1895.
CHAPTER V.
"What a bustling day it has been!" said Bertha, as she helped to fasten Amy Gordon's white muslin dress. She was invited with Miss Price to dinner.
"I wonder if every day will be like it," said Amy. "I fancy so from what one hears and sees. How delightful it would be, but for Mrs. Jones!"
"I don't know," sighed Bertha; "I think I should be happier if all were more regular, as I expected to find it; besides, I dread being asked to dinner."
"Why, dear? are you shy?"
"Yes; and besides———"
"Tell me; you seem low-spirited tonight." To Amy's surprise Bertha suddenly turned away, and burst into a passion of tears.
"Bertha! dear Bertha! please tell me what it is? Can I help you? can I comfort you?"
"It is nothing; do not ask me."
"But I do so want to know; does it dishearten you? are you unhappy about it all? Do tell me, dear."
And Amy knelt down beside her friend, and put her arms round her tenderly.
"You are very kind to me, Amy; I feel as if I had known you all my life."
"Try to imagine that you have, and let me make you happier."
"I will tell you, only keep my secret. You know that Mr. Leslie who arrived to-day?"
"I have seen him—yes."
"We were engaged."
"Were engaged? and not now?"
"I hardly like to tell you; do not think badly of him, but he has never written or come to see me since we became poor."
"I think badly of him! I think he is a villain!"
Bertha pushed her friend away from her.
"You know nothing of him," she said, with flashing eyes. Amy changed as quickly.
