and otherwise admirably situated for the
occupation of a hostile army. The only
intervening country between Herat and the Indus
is the kingdom of Cabul, or Afghanistan, as
it is indifferently named, whose present ruler,
Dost Mahomed, has suffered wrongs and
indignities enough at our hands to tempt him,
should the opportunity ever arise, to turn the
balance against us. We once before threw
him into the arms of Russia and Persia, when
we declared war upon him in 1838, not only
without justification, but in open violation of
every principle of justice and sound policy.
That was the disastrous war in which our
whole army was cut off to a single man on
its retreat from Cabul, and which was
rendered no less memorable and admonitory
by the sufferings of Sale's brigade at Jellalabad,
and the mutinies at Candahar. A history of
that war, drawn from a mass of unpublished
correspondence, diaries, and official documents,
has just appeared.* It shows that the
circumstances which then led to the invasion
of Afghanistan were as nearly as possible
identical with the incidents at this moment
in course of development at Herat; and as
the details with which it furnishes us have
a direct application to the present crisis,
we will avail ourselves of a few passing
memorabilia from its pages.
* History of the War in Afghanistan. From the unpublished
letters and journals of political and military Officers
employed in Afghanistan throughout the entire period of
British connexion with that country. By John William
Kaye. 2 vols. Bentley.

The grounds upon which we entered into
that war were of no greater urgency than the
dangers which now menace us from the same
point. A Persian army was encamped before
Herat; Russian officers and engineers were
engaged in its ranks, directing and assisting
its movements; and, as there was no doubt
that, if Herat had fallen, the conquerors
would have overrun the kingdom of Cabul,
and finally taken up their position on the banks
of the Indus, it was clear that our security
was doubly implicated in the issue. There
were two courses open to us—to compel Persia
to raise the siege of Herat, which we should
have been justified in doing by existing
treaties, or to form a defensive alliance with
the reigning sovereign of Cabul, who was
eager to cultivate friendly relations with us:
or we might have combined these two courses
with still greater advantage. We did neither;
but, with a violent disregard of right and
reason, we declared war, not against the
Persians, who had broken faith with us, but
against Dost Mahomed, who was as much
interested as we were ourselves in driving the
invaders out of Afghanistan. "It was,
indeed," exclaims Mr. Kaye, "an experiment on
the forbearance alike of God and of man; and
therefore, though it might dawn in success
and triumph, it was sure to end in failure and
disgrace." And in failure, and disgrace, and
ignominy, unparalleled in our annals, it did
end. We hunted Dost Mahomed from his
throne, set up in his place the miserable
prince he had deposed, and, after the loss of
millions of money and many thousands of
lives, were only too glad to restore that able
ruler to his throne again. Dost Mahomed is
still sovereign of Cabul, evincing the same
energy and resolution that had marked his
career from the beginning; and, seeing his
kingdom threatened by the same perils which
impended over it in 1838, he is now on his
way to Herat, to make his stand, single-
handed, on the threshold of his territories,
against the common enemy. We wait, with
no ordinary anxiety, for the announcement of
the measures England will adopt in this
emergency.

In the meanwhile, let us glance at the spot
upon which the struggle for empire is about
to take place.

We knew very little concerning Herat
before the Persians invested it in 1838; and
we might still have remained in comparative
ignorance of its actual resources, but for the
accidental presence of a gallant young Englishman,
who, happening to be in the neighbourhood
at the time, offered his services to the
besieged, and was mainly instrumental, by his
courage and intelligence, in enabling the
garrison to hold out for nearly ten months, when
the Persians, despairing of making any
impression on the place, struck their tents, and
turned their faces towards Teheran. That
young Englishman was Eldred Pottinger; and
from the journals he kept at the time, in
addition to other sources of information, Mr.
Kaye has drawn up a narrative of the siege,
which will be read with interest, not only on
account of the novelty of the matter, but the
striking and picturesque traits with which it
abounds.

Herat stands in a rich valley, variegated
with corn-fields, vineyards, and gardens, and
rears its ramparts at the only point of the
great mountain range which presents facilities
for the transport of artillery. The surrounding
country, within which converge all the
great roads leading to India, is so singularly
rich and fertile, that it is known as the
Granary of Central Asia. It is one of the
greatest emporiums of Asiatic commerce, and
possesses within itself so much natural wealth
as to be capable of affording supplies for an
army of more than ten times the number at
present collected in and about the city. But
the charm and beauty of the place is all outside
the walls: the moment you enter the
streets, you are struck by the repulsive
contrast between the filth of the town, and the
freshness and cheerfulness of the country.
Like most Eastern cities, the interior of
Herat is a heap of mud and accumulated
refuse.

The art of sewerage is unknown amongst our
excellent friends the Afghans. There is not
even a drain or gully in Herat, to carry off
the heavy rains, which, instead of being