—"justice to upwards of one hundred millions
of people. Each man armed with judicial
authority has an area of nearly four thousand
square miles for his operations! Were
he a piece of ornithology of the Boyle Roach
genus he could not be everywhere. He must
delegate four-fifths of his functions to natives;
and as these deputies are wretchedly paid,
removed from the possibility of control, and
are terrible amongst the natives they are
intended to protect, bribery, corruption, falsehood,
chicanery, and oppression must be
universal."

At this moment, a respectable-looking
Mussulman ran up to the side of the buggy;
and, in an imploring tone begged of the
Magistrate to take a paper which he held in
his hand, and which he declared to be a
petition proper to himself. Mornington drew
rein, received the document with a
condescending salaam, and we drove on.

"There," said he, "is an illustration of our
precious system. That man was not long
since a Thannadar, or police inspector, in a
remote district. He followed the example of
his predecessors and contemporaries, was
bribed—and found out. He was, consequently,
dismissed to make room for as great a
scoundrel as himself."

"What was his special offence?" I inquired.

"It was a small matter, as far as comparative
crime goes; but how often does it happen
that your greatest thief gets transported for
simply abstracting a handkerchief? This
Thannadar received information that a murder
had been committed in a solitary house on the
skirts of a bajere plantation. He set forth,
on a majestically caparisoned horse—he
manages to keep two horses in addition to
himself and family on twenty-five rupees
(two pounds ten shillings) per month—and,
arriving at the village nearest to the scene
of the alleged homicide, condescendingly
partook of a feast of sweetmeats, which must
have cost the shopkeepers a subscription of
ten rupees, previously accepting a complimentary
nuzzur, or present, in the shape of
fifteen rupees handed to one of his train.
My friend, having satisfied the inner man,
went forth to hold an inquest on the
murdered body. He met the father of the boy
alleged to have been slain, and asked where
his child was lying. The father pointed to the
boy playing in the road. 'What! was he not
murdered by his master? ' asked the Thannadar.
'No, he was beaten by Girdaree,
because he did not do his work, and he
deserved it.' The boy was called up to the
Thannadar: ' Why did you call out, "Murder!
Girdaree is killing me?" ' The boy answered,
"That he might not give me any more of
it.' The Thannadar immediately fined the
father nine rupees for having been in such a
desperate hurry to announce his boy's murder
to the police. He further fined Girdaree fifteen
rupees for so unmercifully beating the boy,
and made them pay instanter, under the alternative
of being sent off forty miles to the
magistrate; and, after a pipe with the
shopkeepers, the functionary remounted his
charger, and returned to head-quarters. This
is an every-day occurrence; but when it was
brought home to this fellow, no resource was
left but to dismiss him. To mulct a village
nearly five pounds for nothing at all is never
to be borne—when it is found out; which is
not often.

"These affairs, you say, are common in the
Mofussil, or country districts?"

"It would be a happy thing if the case I
have related were among the enormous crimes
of the police. It is one of the slightest.
The grand source of extortion is the fear
the people entertain of being sent to the
Cutcherry at a distance. They will pay any
amount of money within their competency
rather than be removed from the scene of
their industry, to the derangement of their
family affairs, and to the possible loss of caste
from some accidental pollution. I have known
half the inhabitants of a village pay fines
rather than be sent to a magistrate's abode
to give evidence in a case of which they
knew nothing. Bribery is the quarry of the
whole race of constables. From the Thannadar
or Darogah down to the Pyke, all are
as vigilant as cats 'to steal cream.' There
is an amusing case mentioned by Shore,
which is only one of a thousand. A
Chowkeydar was sitting under a tree by the
road-side, concealed from view by a small
clump of young bamboos. He saw an old
man riding quietly along on a pony; a fellow
rushed at him, terrified him, robbed him of
some money and a ring, and then ran down
the road, passing the tree. The Chowkeydar,
a stout fellow, armed, pounced upon him, and
held him till the old man came up, the
pony, in the meanwhile, wandering into a
neighbouring field. Here was a clear case
for the magistrate, and so, of course, the
Chowkeydar told the man who had been,
robbed. But the latter felt that of the two
evils the robbery was the least; so, in order to
continue his journey, he gave the Chowkeydar
hush money, the thief restored the property
and paid the constable sundry rupees because
he was let off, and the pony having been
impounded by the head of the village, the
traveller was further made to pay for its
release!"

We reached the bungalow soon after the
story had been told, but at dinner the subject
was resumed. "Would better pay," I asked,
"put an end to the system of extortion?
Would a more general distribution of active
European agency operate as a check upon
venality?" "No doubt," answered Mornington,
"the combination would do a world of good;
but as long as millions are wanted for foreign
wars we must not expect such a liberal
augmentation of the salaries of the police as will
place them beyond temptation. Until the
finances of the country very much improve,