"fervent biographer" has taken of it, much to be regretted in a youth placed as Charles Metcalfe was, and it led to subsequent discontent and yearning for home, when with the best prospects in the world there was nothing but progress to be looked to.

The ideas associated with a writership in India are a close adhesion to the desk, a zealous study of languages, and a gradual initiation into those mysteries of East Indian politics by which a host of the most heterogeneous materials are held together in some sort of harmony. Whatever it may be with others, it was not so with Charles Metcalfe, who belonged to a great privileged class; the son of an East India director, he had many friends in the settlement, and he had a passport to the best society in Calcutta.

Accordingly, the entries in the young writer's journal for some weeks after his arrival seem to be the only writing he cared to be troubled with, and these are mere records of the places at which he dined and at which he danced. We find him, for a "diffident youth," "short, and somewhat homely in appearance," launching forth into the gaieties of Calcutta with great nerve and spirit: getting first a cocked hat (20 rupees), then a palanquin (160 rupees), and next a khitmudgar, an hircarrah, a masaulchee, and a tailor!

True, he did bethink himself amid all these gaieties of studying the language, and he secured the services of a moonshee; but after two days' trial he dismissed him, finding him of no use; and it was not till he was admitted on the rolls of the College of Fort William that he set himself seriously to work to acquire Oriental knowledge.

Charles was then in his seventeenth year; and Lord Wellesley, who had always befriended him, was not unwilling to sanction his premature escape from college, by an appointment as assistant to the Resident at the Court of Dowlut Rao Scindiah.

And so (says his biographer) ended Charles Metcalfe's first year in India. The experienced Anglo-Indian reader will see in it, peradventure, the reflexion of his own trial-year. When throughout the hot months and the rainy season of this year 1801, the young exile felt an irresistible desire to return to his old home, with all its charming associations of love and liberty, his longings were only those of a large proportion of the young exiles who, in loneliness of heart and captivity of person, struggle feebly through this first dreary season of probation. By the old, forgetful of their own experiences, this despondency, attributable as it is in part to physical and in part to moral causes, may be regarded as boyish weakness. But it is weakness better than any strength. Charles Metcalfe had a very warm human heart; and I do not think the reader will admire him the less for being forced to love him more.

Charles Metcalfe's destination was those remote provinces which lie between the Jumna and the Nerbudda, and which had at that time been but little explored. The Mahrattas were then dominant in that fine country. The hereditary enmity of Scindiah and Holkar was rending and distracting it. It was what the natives call a time of trouble. British interests were represented at the Court of the former by Colonel Collins an officer of the Company's army-who, in more than one political situation, had done good service to the state; but whose private amiability, we are told, was not equal to his diplomatic address.

On his way to Oujein, Charles Metcalfe travelled from Cawnpore to Lucknow in the suite of Lord Wellesley, and the pageantry he witnessed

first made him begin to think that the bright Oriental tinting of the "Arabian Nights" had nothing fabulous about it. The official connexion of Charles Metcalfe with Scindiah's Court was, however, brief and unsatisfactory. "My situation was very disagreeable," he wrote in his journal, before he had been more than a few weeks attached to the Residency; and he very soon formed the resolution of seeking more congenial employment elsewhere.

So great was the influence of the East India director, or so strong an impression had his son made upon Lord Wellesley, that the throwing up of his situation at the Court of Scindiah, instead of hurting his prospects, opened the way to his employment at the presidency itself, as an assistant in the office of the chief secretary to government-a situation which the ambitious commonly turn their eyes as the stepping-stone to ultimate greatness.

From this time Charles Metcalfe looked steadily forward. There were no more vain retrospects—no more idle regrets. He had formed the resolution of not leaving the country until the governor-generalship of India was in his hands. And that such would be the end of his career, we are told by his biographer, was not a mere passing thoughtan impulsive hope-but an abiding and sustaining conviction.

All through the year 1803, and the earlier part of 1804, Charles Metcalfe continued to graduate in Indian politics, under the directorship of Lord Wellesley. It was a season of unusual excitement. Our relations with the Mahratta states was just beginning to involve us in the greatest war in which we had ever been engaged in India. Lake and Wellesley were in the field, waiting the opportunity to strike. When the campaign began in earnest against Holkar, young Metcalfe was despatched to the camp of the commander-in-chief as a political assistant. He started in good spirits, and under happy auspices; but he did not proceed far without meeting with an adventure.

Before he reached Cawnpore, at some point of the road which I cannot precisely indicate, he was set upon by robbers. He was asleep in his palanquin when he fell among these thieves, and, according to custom, was abandoned by his bearers. One of his assailants had a club in his hand, which young Metcalfe seized; another then struck at him with a tulwar, or sword, cut off the ends of two of his fingers, and wounded him on the head and on the breast. Single-handed, it was impossible to save his property, but his life he might save; so, finding resistance useless, he staggered away from his assailants, and following a path through the jungle, he soon found himself on the bank of a broad river or stream. There, faint from loss of blood, he sank down; and, as he lay on the ground, thoughts of home came thick upon him. It flashed upon his mind that his parents were not improbably at that very time at Abingdon races, talking with some friends about their absent son, and little thinking of the danger and the suffering to which he was at that moment exposed. These thoughts made a deep impression on his mind; but he presently roused himself to action, and tottered back as best he could to the spot where his palanquin was lying; but found that the robbers had not yet made off with their spoil. After a little while, however, they went, having despoiled the traveller of all the baggage which he carried with him-never any great amount on a dawk-journey-and effected their escape. Metcalfe was then carried on to Cawnpore, where, under the care of his aunt, Mrs. Richardson, he soon recovered from his wounds, and proceeded onwards to the camp of the commander-in-chief.

Lake was then on the banks of the Jumna, Holkar was hanging on his rear, and in the full indulgence of the predatory habits of his tribe. When Charles Metcalfe arrived at head-quarters, he was received with all courtesy and kindness, but, unfortunately, he was also regarded with some mistrust. He was a civilian in the midst of a community of soldiers. He was called a clerk, and sneered at as a non-combatant. Charles Metcalfe, though he wore neither the king's nor the company's uniform, had as much of the true spirit of the soldier in him as any officer in camp, and an opportunity of showing this was not long in presenting itself:

But

The fortress of Deeg, distant some forty-five miles from Agra, was garrisoned by the allied troops of our enemies, Holkar and the Rajah of Bhurtpore. In the month of December, General Lake, who had determined upon the reduction of the place, encamped within sight of it, and awaited the arrival of his battering-train from Agra. On the 13th, having been joined by his guns, he took up his position before the fortress, and commenced an attack upon the outworks. On the 17th the breaching battery was ready for action, but such was the strength of the walls, that it was not until the 23rd that the breach was reported practicable, and dispositions made for the assault on the following day.

The storming party was told off, and Metcalfe volunteered to accompany it. He was one of the first who entered the breach. There are soldiers now living who remember that memorable Christmas-eve, and delight to speak of the gallantry of the young civilian. The "clerk" fairly won his spurs, and shared with the most distinguished of his comrades the honours no less than the dangers of one of the most brilliant achievements of the war. In the commander-in-chief's despatch, the name of Metcalfe was honourably mentioned. "Before I conclude this despatch," wrote Lord Lake, "I cannot help mentioning the spirited conduct of Mr. Metcalfe, a civil servant, who volunteered his services with the storming party, and, as I am informed, was one of the first in the breach. Afterwards, the fine old soldier called him his "little stormer."

Upon this exploit, which nothing but the peculiar position in which the youth was placed can excuse, his mother wrote sensibly enough— "One would think you imagined that your prospect in life was desperate instead of its being one of the finest." The fact is, it is one of those acts which reason condemns, but which the heart cannot help admiring. Charles Metcalfe had also several objects in view: there was not only the desire to show to his military companions that he was ready and willing to share their dangers, but there was also nothing to be left undone to increase an influence already in the ascendant, in order to arrive ultimately at the goal of his ambition.

From Deeg the grand army marched upon Bhurtpore, and when a light brigade was detached under General Smith, to drive back a threatened relief under Ameer Khan, young Metcalfe conducted all the diplomatic business of the campaign. This was the most responsible situation he had yet filled, as he was thrown entirely on his own resources. his biographer remarks, he was now fast becoming a personage of some political importance-taking, indeed, a place in history-and that, too, before he was of age.

As

When peace was concluded with the Rajah of Bhurtpore on the 21st of April, 1805, Metcalfe wished to return to Calcutta, the more especially as his patron, Lord Wellesley, had just been superseded by Lord Corn

wallis; but he was dissuaded by Sir John, then Colonel, Malcolm, who induced him to remain at the scene of action. At this time, Lord Lake's army was cantoned among the ruined mausolea and decaying palaces of Muttra, Agra, and Secundra. The still unsettled state of the northwest provinces gave the "politicals" constant work and uneasiness, and young Metcalfe was soon called upon to render the same services to General Dowdeswell's division in the Doab which he had rendered in the spring of the year to General Smith. Sir Theophilus Metcalfe used to call this kind of employment "nursing king's officers;" but these nurses" have since come to be called "politicals," and Charles Metcalfe was almost the first of the race.

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Charles Metcalfe was now only in his twenty-second year, but he had passed nearly six of these in the public service, and was already a ripe diplomatist. By all who knew him—by his principal friends and official

associates-he was held in such estimation that not one of them hesitated to predict his speedy attainment of the highest honours of his profession. He had not, therefore, long to wait before he received an appointment as first assistant to the Resident at Delhi. Time was when he would have regarded this appointment with some contempt; but, as his biographer justly remarks, the political service was not then what it once had been in the palmy days of the "glorious little man" who had set Charles Metcalfe on the high road which leads to fame and fortune. Mr. Seton had lately succeeded Colonel Ochterlony as Resident at Delhi, and he held young Metcalfe in the greatest possible esteem.

Our young diplomatist was thus for a time fairly and comfortably settled at Delhi-the imperial city of the Great Mogul. The necessity, however, of building a house on a city of ruins, caused an increase of expenditure which led to some temporary embarrassments, but which prudence and resolution soon enabled him to recover from. Disliking as he did the combination of revenue and judicial employments with political, still he was obliged to work actively at all three, till, on the accession of Lord Minto to office, he was sent on a special mission to Lahore. This was at a time when all Europe was bound in a league against Great Britain, and the shadow of a gigantic enemy advancing from those vast tracts of country which lie beyond the Sutlej and the Indus to the conquest of India, already haunted the imaginations of British statesmen. To meet the emergency of the case, Sir John Malcolm was despatched to the Court of Persia, Mountstuart Elphinstone to Cabul, and Charles Metcalfe to the Court of Runjeet Singh. He thus, at twenty-three, became the pioneer of that great scheme of diplomacy by which Persia, Afghanistan, and the Punjab were to be erected into friendly barriers against Russo-Gallic invasion.

The Maharajah received Metcalfe with outward demonstrations of good-will, but his want of good faith soon led to difficulties and misunderstandings. Runjeet was jealous and suspicious of the British government, and it required all the tact and perseverance of the young diplomatist to do anything with him. Great difficulty was experienced at the very outset to get the Rajah even to receive the propositions of the British government. When this was got over, it led to nothing but a series of consultations, each less conclusive than the other. The difficulties which the young diplomatist had to contend with were indeed

many and great. He soon perceived, that in Runjeet Singh he had to deal with a man inordinately ambitious himself, and out of measure suspicious of the designs of others. This distrust of the British mission was not long in assuming the form of open discourtesy. The native bankers were afraid to cash the envoy's bills, and supplies were refused to the mission. All intercourse between the camp and the Sikhs was especially interdicted. But Metcalfe had certain great ends to accomplish, and he would not be arrested or turned aside by any obstructions but those of the greatest national import and significance.

But that which most embarrassed him at this time, was the unscrupulous course of territorial aggrandisement which Runjeet was determined on pursuing in the face of the British mission. On the 25th of September, he, without any previous notice, broke up his camp at Kussoor, and prepared to cross the Sutlej, his object being to capture the fortress and surrounding territory of Fureed-Kote-a tract of country in the domain of the Rajah of Puttealah, one of the chief of the group of the Cis-Sutlej states, and at that time in the hands of rebels.

But while Metcalfe was thus being dragged about in the suite of the predatory Sikh, Lord Minto decided that this aggressiveness on his part should be stemmed, and that the lesser chiefs between the Sutlej and the Jumna should be supported. A division was ordered for service on the banks of the Sutlej, under Colonel Ochterlony, and after the usual amount of delay, dissimulation, and tergiversation, Runjeet was induced to sign a treaty, which, during a subsequent reign of thirty years, was never violated.

Metcalfe, on his return to Delhi, was summoned to Calcutta, and appointed Deputy-Secretary to the Governor, at that time about to depart for Madras, where disturbances had broken out among the British troops. Nothing particular occurred in this mission, and on his return he was appointed Resident at the Court of Scindiah. But this second residence at the same Court was not destined to be of long continuance: at the commencement of the following year, 1811, he was translated to the Delhi Residency.

It was at this period of his life, when he had just completed his twentyfifth year, that Metcalfe laid the foundation of a fortune which would have creditably sustained the peerage he ultimately won, by not only making a resolution to lay by 800 rupees (1007.) out of 2000 he received per month, but by having the firmness and constancy to carry it into practice. With all this prudence it is but just to observe, that Metcalfe was throughout life a liberal, a generous, and a charitable man ; indeed, it is only your prudent men who can afford to be either.

It is needless to enter into the details of diplomatic and administrative labours at Delhi. Stripped of his externals, the burra sahib, or great lord of the imperial city, says his biographer, was but a solitary exile, continually disquieted by thoughts of home. But he lived with the harness on his back, and incessant occupation preserved him from despondency or depression.

Among the troubles of the Residency, not the least were those which arose out of the folly of the Mogul, Akbar Shah, who had succeeded to the old blind emperor, Shah Allum, and the wickedness of his family and dependents.