many hundred steps would yield. At last,
suddenly, without any warning, the line of skulls
ceased, and I touched WOOD!
It was a door of open lattice-work.
All looked dark beyond! But I knew I was
at the exit. I had known that, for many
thousands of steps— many; and yet, when I touched
the door, how I started!
What a celestial glory the day had, as it broke
upon my eyes, streaming in exquisite blue rays
through the chinks of the outer door which was
beyond the lattice-work! I have no occasion to
tell how I broke that lattice-work, how I
hammered at the outer door, how I was at last
released in the presence of half a dozen gendarmes
(who had drawn their swords), and of a score of
wondering workmen.
This was not the gate by which I had entered.
If I had been immured forty-two hours (as they
told me), I had passed two nights in the
catacombs, and all that time I had never once sat
down.
I found my friends in a great fright. They
had only just learnt, by telegraph, that I had
not reached England, and that nobody in London
knew anything about me. I was ill for some
time, of course; but I recovered to claim the
distinction of having touched more skulls than
any other man living.
FAMINE IN INDIA.
OUR subject is a sad one, but we are
fortunately enabled to take a cheerful view of it, and
promise not to inflict upon the reader any
purposeless pain. We can assure even that particularly
uncomfortable person, known as " the most
delicate female," that she may peruse these pages
without danger of having her feelings harrowed
up by any unpleasant details of suffering such
as nature, in a coarse and vulgar way, will make
occasionally manifest. Our object, indeed, is
not to describe what Indian famines are, but
what they might be made; for a very good
authority has come to the conclusion that they are
by no means so inevitable as is generally
supposed, and that there are means by which they
may in a great measure be " put down."
Of course famines may be put down by the
rude expedient of feeding the people; but we
do not intend to propose any such preposterous
remedy. It would be preposterous to
feed people by charitable contributions, if we
could at a less cost enable them to feed
themselves, without any charity at all.
Prevention is always better than cure, and in a
case where prevention may be made nearly
perfect, and cure can be effected only to a very
small extent, the former is preferable in an even
greater degree. It is the latter process that has
been tried in the North-West Provinces during
the famine with which they have been desolated
for some months past. The efforts which have
been made to mitigate the horrors of the crisis
reflect honour upon all concerned. The Indian
government and the public, both Indian and
English, contributed gallantly to the good work; but
they could not prevent many thousands of
persons from dying of starvation, although they
certainly saved many thousands more. Had the
question been merely one of money, the means
might have been found to procure subsistence
for all the sufferers. But the difficulty was to
get at them. The entire population could not
be brought into the large towns and stations to
receive food, even had sufficient been forthcoming
for the number. It was necessary to go to
the persons requiring relief, and to convey the
food to them. As it is impossible even for
government officials to be everywhere at once,
and as hunger will not wait, the difficulties
attendant upon the work may be conceived.
These were, moreover, aggravated by absence
of means of communication, caused by the want
of roads and conveyance. The cure was thus
necessarily imperfect. How far the recurrence
of the evil can be prevented it is most desirable
to examine; and for this purpose we cannot
do better than follow the facts set forth
by Colonel Baird Smith in his report upon the
subject, presented to the Indian government.
There are several questions connected with
famine in India. The system of irrigation has
naturally a great deal to do with their force,
if not their frequency, as famine, in most
cases, arises from drought. The system of
internal communication has also not a little
relation to the subject, for reasons already
alluded to. But the most important question
in connexion with the subject is the land
revenue settlement— the terms upon which the
land is held and the adjustment of the government
demand upon it. It lies, we are told,
far nearer to the root of the matter, because of
its intimate and vital relation to the every-day
life of the people, and their growth towards
prosperity or towards degradation, than any
such accessories as canals or roads, however
important both of these may be. In order that
the reader may test the truth of this assertion
we will make a dive into the colonel's statistics
of the famines which have taken place during
a period of more than a hundred years past.
From 1733 to 1861, it appears that there were
thirteen droughts, causing a greater or less
degree of scarcity. These happened at intervals
varying from four to twenty-four years,
which is a not unimportant fact, as it disposes
of a popular theory that such calamities are of
regular periodical recurrence, to be accepted as
matters of course. Of the thirteen visitations
the most destructive were those of six seasons
between and including those of 1770 and 1861.
These occurred with a greater approach to
regularity, that is to say, the intervals between
them varied from thirteen to twenty-four years;
but even this difference is sufficient to show that
the idea of their periodical recurrence is a delusion.
Of these six great famines, that of 1770
was the greatest of all. It is believed to have
been the most severe that has ever fallen upon
India. It is worthy of remark, by the way,
that this famine although included among the
Dickens Journals Online