he should, though a very progressive ruler, have retained to the end the confidence of so cautious a body as the Court of Directors.'
He was scrupulously polite to his subordinates; and he knew so well the power of giving pain which dwelt in his words, that he scarcely on any occasion administered a personal rebuke. He reserved his reproofs for writing, toning them down in the solitude of his chamber. But even thus calmed and moderated, a reprimand from Dalhousie cut to the bone. The austere conscientiousness which he enforced from himself in every part of his duty, he demanded from others. 'By those who had served him loyally,' continues Sir Richard Temple, 'he was regarded as a trustworthy friend: but even they looked up to him with a certain awe[1].'
There were those, however, who not only served him loyally and trusted him as a friend, but who toiled for him with enthusiasm, and loved him living or dead from the very bottom of their hearts. A hundred stories are told of the tenderness and gratitude with which he repaid such love. The illness of a trusted subordinate brought always a keener pang to Dalhousie than any sufferings of his own; the death of a valued officer moved the stern master to tears. No letter in the English language breathes a more chivalrous sympathy than that
- ↑ Men and Events of my Time in India, by Sir Richard Temple, Bart., p. 124. ed. 1882.
