past my tent, and numerous boats loaded
with produce went daily to and fro."

The most remarkable instance of the effect
of works of public utility on an Indian soil is
to be found in the Province of Tanjore—a
province well known as the scene of the
labours of the celebrated Moravian missionary,
Schwarz (whose monument in the palace of
Tanjore was executed by Flaxman for the
Raja, his pupil, and by Bacon, in St. Mary's
Church, Madras, for the East India Directors).
Tanjore is an example of the revenue value
of money laid out on irrigation and roads. It
was an irrigation dispute between the Raja of
Tanjore and the Nabob of the Karnatic,
which eventually resulted in the absorption
of the former province with Nelompang. By
the terms of the treaty the reigning Raja
had beside an annual allowance a fifth share
of the surplus revenue. Without works of
irrigation the province would soon have been
a loss instead of a profit to the company. The
situation of the capital and the civilising
results of the labours of Schwarz have made
Tanjore so agreeable a residence that, unlike
most other collectorates (collector is the
modest name of an Indian satrap or prefect),
the officer, once appointed, seldom desires to
leave; in fact, from the time of its cession,
Tanjore, with its fine capital and Protestant
church, has been a pet province. Instead of
a constant succession, not more than four
or five collectors have adminstered the
revenues in fifty years, and each has followed
in the footsteps of his predecessor. About
eight thousand pounds a-year have been
expended in rudely constructing and repairing
common roads, bridges, and irrigation
works. The result has been, that while other
districts around, especially Guntoor with equal
natural advantages for irrigation and roads,
have been starving, Tanjore has been able to
export to famine-stricken districts; that while
the lands of the Presidency of Madras are
generally valueless, the land of Tanjore is solely
at twenty-five years' purchase; that while
the population and revenue of other districts
have remained stationary, the population of
Tanjore has increased from eight hundred
thousand to a million and a half, and the
revenue has increased from three to five
hundred thousand.

About twenty-five miles northward of the
City of Ajmeer, is Mairwara, on the country
of the Mairs, a hilly, jungly district,
inhabited by a race who bear or bore a wonderful
resemblance to the Highland clans of
Rob Roy's time. In religion they are a sort
of wet Hindoos, regardless of ablution,
preparation of food, and other set ceremonies.
They live on Indian corn and barley bread,
with the flesh of sheep, goats, cows, and
buffaloes, when they can get them; but hog's
flesh, venison, fish, and fowl they reject.
Faithful, generous, and brave, with strong
clannish feeling, the sword was the Mair's
constant companion. Eobbery was the
profession of the whole race. Their strip of wild
hilly country enabled them to dash into the
heart of the surrounding lowland country.
Each district of Mairwara had its assigned
field of plunder; after the execution of a
raid, all shared alike. It was a republic,
military, social, democratic, and larcenous.
The horsemen, in small bands, on the
highways, levied tribute on marriage cavalcades
and pilgrims. The footmen devoted their
energies to cattle-lifting, taking also in hand
such travellers as fell in their way. Brahmins,
professed devotees, and women, were
exempt from robbery under their laws, and
blood was never shed, except for strictly
professional reasons.

In eighteen hundred and twenty-three this
colony of caterans, having been conquered,
was placed under the command of Captain
Hall. For thirteen years he devoted himself
to their civilisation, and so far secured their
good will that he was able to arrest and
punish criminals, where, from the nature of
the country, two thousand policemen would
be helpless. When compelled by ill-health
to retire, he was succeeded by Captain Dixon.
Captain (afterwards Colonel) Dixon saw that
the people could not continue honest, with no
sufficient means of earning a livelihood at
home, and plenty of cattle feeding on the
plains below. Water was the great need;
rains are precarious, bad seasons the rule; in
some years no rain falls at all; and, from the
hilly character of the country, the rain flows
rapidly away, without sufficiently saturating
the earth. So, Colonel Dixon set to work
with three clearly-defined objects in view.
First, to insure a sufficient supply of water
for the permanent cultivation of the soil;
second, the cultivation of tracts of land covered
by jungle; third, the abolition of cattle-stealing
by turning every inhabitant into a land
cultivator. To obtain a constant supply of water,
the main watercourses of the country were
banked up, and great tanks were formed; small
tanks and wells were made by the Mairs,
assisted by loans of about twenty shillings for
each work, and of tools. At first the people
would not sink wells, because they found there
was no water. An example was set by causing
the battalion of Mairs, a sort of local militia
formed by Colonel Hall, to sink fifty wells,
which were handed over to the villages
complete when finished. This gave them
heart, and was the first step towards
encouraging habits of self- reliance. Wherever
villages showed themselves industrious in
erecting these public works, they were
rewarded by a remission of land rent. The
next step was to found villages on waste
land, of which there were thousands of acres.
The head men of the new villages were
selected from the sons of the pretels or head
men of adjacent villages, and their connexions
formed the nucleus of the new colony. The
settlers were furnished with loans for the
purchase of bullocks; tools were furnished