armies of native States-armies,' indeed, few of them are in the aggressive sense of the word. Most of them look much more formidable on paper than they would on parade, and more formidable on parade than in a campaign. Their duties are mainly those of police, but inasmuch as they have to do police duty among an armed population, they require something more efficient than the staves and the handcuffs which are considered equipment enough for a policeman in England. We have only to cross the English, or even the Irish, Channel to understand how specially Anglo-insular this way of regarding a police force is.

In the greater number of native States the armies are armed police among an armed population, whose presence might be of considerable use to us to maintain internal order locally, should the danger of external attack so seriously threaten us as to demand a concentration of large bodies of our troops, European and native, on the frontiers or beyond them; and the risk to ourselves of disarming or disbanding these bodies of armed police is by no means imaginary, although not always taken into account by those who discuss the subject. It is true that some native States, such as Gwalior, Hyderabad, Indore, perhaps Baroda, have armies exceeding both in numbers and in military training anything that can be required for police purposes, or for maintaining the dignity of the chief of the State. Some reductions might wisely be made as opportunity offers in the armies of these States, taking into account the special circumstances of each, and not attempting to include them all in any general measure, which could not possibly be framed so as to meet the various requirements of all. Where there are foreign mercenaries to any large extent, as in Hyderabad, composed of a medley of nationalities and races, including Arabs and Africans, such an element of internal confusion and disorder should be gradually extinguished, no attempt being made to reduce what are really native troops below the number fairly required to maintain the order of the State, and the dignity of its ruler.

No changes can be made successfully in which the tenure of land by military service is forgotten. In many native States the chiefs hold their lands on the same conditions as feudal lords used to hold them in England, viz., of supplying so many armed men to their ruler for the military forces; and these subordinate chiefs, who hold their land by military service, are fully alive to a sense of their own dignity and position, and know well enough that they depend entirely on the maintenance of this feudal tenure. A State containing many such chiefs as these is always in some danger of disintegration, a danger which becomes very serious if the central power is reduced below a certain point relative to that of any of the subordinate chiefs singly, or even of some of them in combination, and an army which would be out of all proportion to the requirements of a

State where military tenure of land was unknown may be necessary where it is prevalent, and acknowledged to be so even by those who are fully aware that it is a two-edged weapon, which may in certain contingencies be turned against the Supreme Government, or may, on the other hand, as has been lately seen, be loyally and spontaneously offered as a most valuable help in the defence of the empire. To meet such proofs of loyalty as these by a measure of general disarmament, a measure odious for many reasons, but specially because it would be construed as one of mistrust and of fear, would be very doubtful policy; and a general disarmament of the people, a measure in the highest degree unpopular, must necessarily be a condition precedent to the disarmament of the forces on the side of order. It is easy enough to add up long columns of figures, and point out the waste of treasure squandered every year on native armies as a useless show or as weapons of offence. This may be granted, and still the question has to be met, fairly discussed, and cautiously answered, whether a stop can be put to this forcibly, without running a risk of alienating the loyalty and losing the friendship of those whose loyalty and friendship may be of the greatest service in the consolidation and, if need be, the defence of the empire.

It must be remembered that the confiscation of arms from such people as the natives of Indian States wounds their sense of dignity, and destroys their confidence in rulers who are compelled, for their own safety, to adopt such an unpopular measure, and, strange though it may seem to us, in many cases it touches their religious feelings, for weapons are often regarded with reverence and almost as symbols of their faith. The only satisfactory disarmament is that which is gradually but spontaneously brought about by the growth of order, the increased respect for laws which are generally understood and accepted, and a prosperity so widely diffused as to be the parent of universal contentment. This was written before the letter by Sir Lepel Griffin was published, which appeared in the Times of the 8th of last month, a letter which puts the case with a clearness and an authority which long experience can alone command. The whole of it might, with great advantage, be inserted here, but the following quotation will serve to show the point of view from which Sir Lepel Griffin, who says that he has been intimately and officially connected with about a hundred of the ruling Princes of India,' regards their relations with the British Government :

If the Princes of India are loyal with a loyalty which would stand the severest strain, as I affirm that they are, then the armies they maintain need cause us no concern. We must accept the lessons of history; and it is no presumption to have full confidence in the friendship of those who have stood by us in good and evil fortune. Look at the black mutiny days, with the Nizam holding the Deccan quiet for us, Holkar maintaining order in Malwa, and the forces of Cashmere, Puttiala, Jhind, Nabha, and Kapurthala marching with us to Delhi, their gallant

Princes at their head. Remember the late Afghan war, when the Sikh contingents did admirable and memorable service on the frontier. See to-day, when the Mahommedan States of Hyderabad and Bhopal offer their troops for service in the distant Soudan. These offers are genuine.

There is nothing at once so bold and so safe as a policy of honourable trust where honour is. Surely we have it here.

When the necessary interval of time has passed to allow of the study of Lord Ripon's work in India in its true perspective; when the results of a loyalty to equitable principles of government, accompanied by a continuous patience in the drudgery of detail, are recognised, then the following words, quoted from a letter written on the 20th of last April, by one high in the Indian Government, will be appreciated at their right value:-What has been done' (by Lord Ripon) is bearing good fruit. . . . The feeling of content and loyalty which pervades the whole country, and which is our strongest safeguard against foreign aggression, is the direct outcome of his policy.'

FREDERICK W. VERNEY.

DRINK: A REJOINDER.

WHEN I wrote for the Liberty and Property Defence League' the paper called Drink,' reprinted in the last number of the Nineteenth Century, I was mainly moved to it by a sense of injustice. Alcoholic liquors have been condemned without a hearing. A love of justice, perhaps only an old habit, made me think that Drink' ought to have its case stated. I thought that, in some respects, I was a proper person to do so. I do not make drink, nor sell it, nor, if I may be permitted to speak of myself, take much of it; nor could my paper lose or gain me any votes.

Accordingly I wrote Drink.' I contended that it gave a deal of enjoyment and more than equivalent to the harm it did. That even if not, there should be no attempt to put it down by legislation. That such an attempt would be attended with mischief, and, if successful, would be unfair to moderate drinkers. I asked for charity for those who think as I do. I gave those who thought otherwise credit for honesty, ability, in short everything good but the charity I asked for. I did not call the advocates of total abstinence' wrongheaded' nor call their opinions or practice a craze.' I believe that the agitation proceeds from what I heartily respect and rejoice at, a feeling of benevolence and desire to do good to one's fellow-creatures, which exist in the present age to an extent that never existed before even in this, much more in any other, country. I believe this generation is better than any that has preceded it-more benevolent, more humane, more just and right-minded. This shows itself in many ways, among others in this-that, seeing the mischief done by excess in drink, there is a desire to stop it even at a sacrifice to those who enjoy it in moderation, and by compulsion without a due consideration of the consequent injustice and mischief.

I am not without hope that I have to some extent got drink a hearing. Archdeacon Farrar has honoured 'Drink' with a 'Reply' in this Review. That shows we have something to say for ourselves. Having read it carefully, I am unconvinced. It is not enough that Archdeacon Farrar is learned and eloquent, he has not addressed himself to the matter in hand. I have spoken in favour of honest drink temperately taken. The Archdeacon answers by denouncing fraudulent adulterated drink and all drink intemperately taken. So VOL. XVII.-No. 100.

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do I, as heartily as he does. I deprecate the unfairness and mischief of an attempt to make people sober by law. The Archdeacon hardly notices that I ask for charity for the opinion of those who think as I do. The Archdeacon gives very little if any, and that grudgingly. But the character of the reply is such that it must be examined in detail. The Archdeacon says that as there are said to be three to four millions of total abstainers in England, it would be a misfortune if their position was as untenable and their practice as much to be reprehended as Lord Bramwell maintains.' Now, with all respect, I never said that nor really anything like it. If any man abstains for conscience sake, so far from reprehending him, I approve. If, as has happened, a man, thinking no harm of moderate drinking, himself enjoying wine or beer, renounced them for the sake of example to his workmen, I not only do not reprehend, I admire and respect him. If he does it for his health sake, I certainly do not reprehend him, and I approve or not according as his judgment in his particular case is right or wrong, wise or unwise, and should not call such position untenable. If consideration for humanity or health is the motive, I think the position very tenable unless it can be shown that the abstainer is making a mistake. But what the Archdeacon has forgotten to mention is that these 'total abstainers,' or a large number of them, not only totally abstain themselves, but would make others do so whose conscience, feelings, and opinion are as honest as their own, and who see and feel no harm in the moderate drinking of alcoholic liquors.

And this brings me to the next thing to be noticed. The Archdeacon says, 'Lord Bramwell begins by saying that this cause needs no apology, because it is just and moral and in conformity with the practice of all mankind. If so, what need is there to be so much moved by those whom he evidently regards as a small and wrongheaded minority?' Was I much or at all moved? I think not. I was not conscious of it. Did I say that to drink a glass of beer was 'just or moral'? I think not. I think it neither just nor unjust, moral nor immoral, any more than is the eating of an apple. But I think it reasonable, unless the glass is followed by too many others, and I suppose even so harmless a thing as apple-eating might be carried to excess. Nor did I, as I have said, call the total abstainers 'wrongheaded.' I gave them credit for honesty and cleverness, but thought them wrong in renouncing a harmless enjoyment, and doubly wrong in endeavouring not only to persuade but to compel others to do so.

The Archdeacon then quotes me as saying that the opponents of all drink have said, 'We are the righteous, the good, and virtuous; you are wicked, bad, vicious.' Who, asks the Archdeacon, has ever said. this? and he says he never heard anything distantly approaching to such an allegation. On reading this, I sent the Archdeacon a report of a speech at a Blue Ribbon meeting at which I and drink were