Dr. Hoffmeister's volume* and with it, indeed, we may conclude our own overgrown article. The following letter was written from Múdkí, on the 20th of December, 1845. It is the last in the series. In a few hours the writer was a corpse :

“Múdki, 20th December.—We arrived at the village of Múdkí on the morning of the 18th after three days forced marches with the English army, which consists of 13 regiments of infantry, 5 regiments of cavalry, and 7 batteries. Shortly before we entered the village, it was reported that the Sikhs were advancing, and several shots were heard; but the light irregular cavalry drove back the enemy's detachments, so that the English took possession of the village without opposition. The tents were quickly pitched; but the vast mass of baggage with which thousands of camels, elephants and bullock carts were loaded had not yet arrived, when all was again in commotion. Leaving the hasty meal they had begun to snatch the cavalry hurried to their horses, and the weary and footsore infantry (they had marched 40 English miles in two days) were started from their cooking kettles by the news: The Sikhs are marching against us. The English troops hurried to meet them in double quick time. I was left behind in the camp, my horse being dead beat. A few minutes before 4 o'clock the battle began with a murderous discharge of grape from the Sikh batteries. The atmosphere was thick and sultry, and all was wrapped up in smoke and horrible dust. No enemy was visible; only his position was discoverable by the flash of the guns. The cannonade continued for two hours, after which the Sikh infantry came to the charge with the bayonet, but were thrice driven back. It was not until night had fully set in that the enemy quitted his position, seventeen cannons and three standards were taken. Only one Sikh was made prisoner, but their loss in killed and wounded was very great.

Some regiments remained on the field of battle to cover the removal of the wounded, among whom there were many officers. To my unspeakable delight the Prince and the Counts made their appearance again without a scratch, though they had been in the thick of the fire. I had been horrified by a report that one of them had fallen. Three of my good friends were buried this day; one of them was amongst the ablest surgeons in the army. Another surgeon had both his legs shot off.

Yesterday morning after a sleepless night I went to the field of battle with a detachment of troops to assist in removing the wounded that still lay on the ground. Unluckily I was obliged to leave my horse behind. Scarcely had we reached the field when we were met by a large body of troops which had been ordered to retreat with all speed in consequence of the advance of the enemy's cavalry. Notwithstanding this the officer who commanded the detachment continued his march for another good half mile. Suddenly, just as we were giving drink to the first poor wounded wretches we came up with and were preparing to remove them, a cloud of dust was seen on the horizon, and several shots were heard. The officer ordered his men to fall into line; but the dread of the Sikhs was too great, and the native soldiers took to their heels one and all, and with such speed that I could not keep up with them. I followed the road I guessed to be

Since this notice was written, a translation of Dr. Hoffmeister's book, by Mrs. Austin, has been advertised by Mr. Bentley; so that it will soon pass, in its English dress, into our reader's hands.

the right one, at a quick run for some two miles; after which the ground became so sandy that my strength failed, and I had great reason to fear I should not get so quickly over the three miles that were still before me. Meanwhile the firing was coming nearer, and with it the cloud of dust that concealed the cavalry. With great difficulty I cleared another half mile, and had just strength enough left to bargain with the driver of an elephant loaded with dead bodies to stop and give me a lift. He dragged me up on the animal's back, after which I fainted, and when I came to myself again I found I was in the camp. A sound sleep soon made me all right again.

This morning a dead body was brought to our tent accompanied by an open letter, expressing the writer's regret that Count Von Oriola had fallen in the battle. The dead man however was a catholic priest who had accompanied an Irish regiment. I had seen him stretched on the ground and recognized him by his long black beard, which had led to the mistake. He was chopped all to pieces with sword cuts.

To-day at last some of the poor wounded fellows who had lain two days and nights on the field of battle, were brought into the camp,-the same I helped to look for yesterday. Not far from the spot where I had been a slightly wounded soldier has had both his hands cut off. Mine, thank God, remain whole, and I have been obliged to stir them briskly; for there is a great want of surgeons in the hospital.

To-morrow the army marches for Ferozepore, and I am confident we shall come off well since the troops have received still further reinforcements. To our speedy meeting !"

Brief were Dr. Hoffmeister's experiences of military life and military adventure. War has its dangers even for amateurs; and Prince Waldemar himself but narrowly escaped destruction. That illustrious personage, when the last received mail was despatched from England, was enjoying the homage and partaking of the hospitality of our own countrymen-homage and hospitality rendered without stint. He has fought beside the Governor-General on the plains of India; he has dined with the Court of Directors in the City of London, and may now discourse to all the princes of Europe, not as a mere book-worm or parlour-politician, on that most wonderful phenomenon of the age-the British power in the east; and even detail, with something of pride, his own experiences of military life and adventure in Hindustan.

ART. VII.-1. Papers relating to the Articles of Agreement concluded between the British Government and the Lahore Durbar on 16th December, 1846, for the administration of the Lahore State, during the minority of the Maharajah Dhulíp Singh.*

EVERY Englishman is supposed to be acquainted with the laws of his country, and there are very few who would not have us to suppose also that they are acquainted with its politics. Since the days of the Athenians, never did a people take more cognisance of their rulers' acts than our own countrymen. The great family of Englishmen planted beyond the Atlantic, who caricature us in every thing, have made this peculiarity ridiculous, and divided themselves off into two great classes of which "The President of the United States" has one all to himself, while the other is given up to "the free and enlightened electors" who first choose, and then look after him. The French trace it, of course, to the climate of Great Britain, whose gloomy inspiration engenders politics eleven months out of twelve, and attains its climax, suicide, in November. We may, however, be excused if we attribute it to that love of liberty, which liberty itself produces; to a determination not lightly to give up the rights and institutions which one by one were wrung from time and arbitrary government: but, on the contary, to lose no opportunity which the course of events, and the difficulties of our rulers may offer to extend and improve them. Thus English bills have rarely wanted either in or out of the Commons House, thoughtful patriots to watch their tendencies, question their legitimacy, and expound their good or evil to the people. But it is equally true that this very vigilance over exclusive British interests, proved, in an age of false political economy, for many years, the bane of our own colonies, and amongst them, of British India; to the latter in exact proportion as charters limited the authority of the Court of Directors, and brought

The following article was written for our last number; but circumstances prevented its being inserted therein. It is not however, too late; since we both hope and believe that the readers of the Calcutta Review are among those who never deem it too late to inquire into the truth. The Lahore Blue Book indeed involves principles which can never be out of date; and the present paper will, we trust, be found to throw a new light upon the darkest passages of the Kashmir rebellion and the trial of Lal Singh. The almost PROPHETIC reflections on the impolicy of leaving the Rani at Lahore, have, as all our readers know, been since amply justified; and so far from sympathizing with "the bereaved mother," we rejoice over the emancipated child, and should have been glad if the firebrand of the Punjab had been utterly extinguished in Hindustan, instead of being merely damped at Shikopurah.

the East Indies in contact with the English legislature. The very patriots and liberal party of our own island were the authors of every illiberal and ruinous measure towards India ; and it is not too much to assert, that if the same narrow spirit of legislation, which lost us America, had been unfortunately let loose on British India, every one of its provinces must have long since shared the fate of Dacca. The little interest taken by the people of England, for so long a period, in Anglo-Indian affairs, cannot therefore be wondered at. We are really inclined to think, that it is only since "the Kabul catastrophe," that even the newspapers of the United Kingdom, (which are always ahead of the age,) have admitted this vast continent into their columns; and any one of the young Baboos of Calcutta who pushes his English researches into "Hansard," cannot fail to come to the conclusion that the Board of Control was originally founded as a Chapel of Ease to the two Houses of Parliament; to rid them of the trouble, the responsibility, and even the very name of India. The Peers and Commoners could not afford a debate upon any thing less than a renewal of the charter: and only that because it was supposed to turn "the balance of power" between the two great Island parties. So they paid a goodnatured lord to take from eighty to one hundred millions of subjects off their hands!

In this point of view the late Akbar Khan may not impossibly be regarded by the next generation of natives as the great benefactor of their country; and the stunning calamity which overtook us in Affghanistan takes its place in history as a most fortunate occurrence.

We have been led into these reflections by the appearance of the "Lahore Blue Book," and the marked attention with which it has been received at home and here. If "Blue Books" are not altogether a recent invention, (that of the Nepalese war is the first we are aware of), reading them, decidedly is; and we venture to say even now that many an Englishman of education has peered into the secrets of the moon through Lord Rosse's telescope, who feels no wish to gain an insight into the dark diplomacy of this Eastern empire. The war in Affghanistan first got the pages of an Indian " Blue Book" cut by the public. The amour propre of John Bull was wounded by so disgraceful a reverse; his good nature was exhausted by such a series of blunders; and his strong good sense insisted on being told what business the Governor-General of India had ever found in Khorassan. The explanation elicited was anything but satisfactory; and the people of England have

looked with suspicion ever since upon the smallest military movement in this country. Lord Ellenborough would scarcely have been allowed the relaxation of playing at soldiers without rendering an account of the game. And assuredly the war in Sindh did not tend to lessen this anxiety, or show the superfluity of "Blue Books;" though "the Commentary on the Conquest" has since disclosed that "the whole truth" is not always to be found therein.

The hard-fought battles on the Sutlej once more alarmed the English public. They could not understand why British India should be invaded;-peaceful British India which for nearly a century had been invading every state within its reach. Something must certainly be wrong somewhere; and the "Blue Book" had better clear it up! The " Blue Book" did clear it up. It took the highest ground ever yet taken by a Governor-General of India; for it expounded the doctrine that peace was the policy, and war the last alternative of the paramount power.

Thus it has happened that hitherto "Blue Books" have been in effect the apologies of the government. They have been hopefully looked for by the honest to clear up what wanted explanation; maliciously watched for by partisans as incxhaustible magazines of suicidal admissions, and misrepresentable opinions.

The "Lahore Blue Book" now before us commences, we trust, a more auspicious era. Its publication was not actually required. Little reserve and no mystery has shrouded the past year's politics of the North West Frontier. The great event of the "Book" itself,-(the trial and deposition of Rajah Lal Sing), took place in open day; unbiassed military men were associated with the political officers in judgment; and the court was filled with impartial auditors and spectators, European and native. However remarkable, therefore, the event might be, the reasons of it were not to seek; and the changes which ensued ;-the improved relations which we gained with our Sikh neighbours; followed as a matter of course: and have never been blamed except for moderation. The only enemies of the treaty of the 16th December were the advocates of annexation, of which no Blue Book could decide the policy or impolicy, nor any one else be in so good a position to judge as those who rejected it.

Hence it is probable that few politicians awaited the Lahore Blue Book with any great curiosity or would have been much disappointed or surprised if none had appeared. Yet we find on perusal that its suppression would have been an irreparable

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