SIR JOHN MALCOLM'S LIFE OF LORD CLIVE.
THE name of CLIVE is under a temporary eclipse. Hie traditional celebrity has died away; he is too close to the present age for his his- torical proportions to be truly discerned. He wee, however, one of the most remarkable men in a century which opened ripen Mesteno., ROUGH and elmed upon NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. He laid the foun- dation of the English territorial dominion in the East ; lie struck a
blow that arrested the triumphant progress of French arms and
French policy which were then successfully contending with us for influence; he was the first who impressed upon the Indians the no- tion that (in their own expression) " Englishmen could fight," and
struck them with that moral terror which has assisted us more than material force. He united in himself the two charicters of a warrior and a statesman; and, what is rarer, kept the soldier apart from and subordinate to the politician. He was also the founder of that marked and distinct class in English society, the East Indian
Nabob; of which he was the first and the greatest. When CLIVE went to India, he was a fortune-hunting adventurer; his masters were factors, with forts, whence they were liable to be
expelled at the caprice of the tyrannical and independent Vice- roys, who robbed the country rather than ruled it. When Clove quitted the East, his masters had a kingdom; he had forty thou- sand a year. And, what is almost a matter of equal wonder, it took him as little time to found an empire and make a fortune, as it takes our rulers now to pass an English Railway Bill, or to job an Indian Governorship.
The three volumes in which Sir JOHN Ma scoem has narrated the career of such a man, and, at the same time, taken a view of
Indian affairs during the period in which lie was engaged in them, may be considered as a solid addition to our literary stores. From the piles of public and private family papers placed at his disposal by the present Earl of Pow's, (the son of Calve,) a good deal of light is thrown upon the character, family, and private life of the conqueror of Bengal ; and some additional matter seems to have been gained from other sources. The profound knowledge of India,
and its history, which Sir JOHN MALCOLM p,iSSOSSCd, has enabled him to bring before the reader the Eastern achievements of his hero,
with more comprehension and fulness, if with less of rigid impar- tiality, than a mere Eng!ish writer. And he has worked up his various materials into a well-arranged, sustained, and, with a few chronological exceptions, a censistent narrative. As a finished bio- graphy, however, the work is entitled to lower praise. The writer deviates too frequently into general history, as if he had
less undertaken a life of CLIVE than an account of the public events in which he was engaged. Without being at all stilted, the manner is too elevated, or rather too grand, fur biography. There
is none of that variety which gives relief, or of those minute and characteristic touches which impart life and interest to individual portraiture : and when occasionally introduced, from the letters of others, it is done half apologetically—as if it were a letting-down of dignity. From the family correspondence placed at his disposal, he quotes, too largely, passages which, having little character, and merely conveying sentiments or facts, might have been compressed with advantage. And either his Indian parti- alities or his relations with Lord Powts seem to have biassed him
unduly in favour of his subject, causing him to write more like an advocate than a judge. He is constantly claiming the heroic character for CLIVE, and as constantly testing him by the vulgar standards of East India Writers and Company Captains.
Some of these drawbacks are essential to the structure of the work, or to the condition of the writer's mind. It is fair to admit that others might have been removed, bad the author been spared to revise and complete his task. But Sir JOHN died when he advanced towards the close of CLIVE'S second Governorship of 's Bengal; and the remainder has been supplied by a friend, if not with the finish and mastery of Meecoesi, at least with as much power of attraction. Let us now endeavour to trace briefly, yet as fully as we can, the successive steps in the life of a man of whom the reader must have heard something, but of whom he probably knows next to nothing. The family of ROBERT Clove was ancient and respectable; having been settled in Shropshire since HENRY the Second, and possessed there a small estate. At this patrimonial seat our hero
was born, on the 29th September 1725. He was the eldest of thir-
teen children ; and, from his earliest years, exhibited a pugnacious disposition and an unconquerable determination. He must also have displayed, to an observing eye, some signs of remarkable ability; for Dr. EATON, his first schoolmaster, predicted, " that if his scholar lived to be a man, and opportunity enabled him to exert his talents, few names would he greater than his." This prophecy does not appear to have been founded on any acquisition of school lore ; for he was impatient of control, and his applica-
tion was not directed to books ; so that when he was appointed, at eighteen, to a Writership at Madras, he appears to have pos-
sessed but little education. In after life, however, he displayed no want of power in arranging or expressing his thoughts; from which it would seem that Sir Jour, MaLcotais conjecture is
correct, and that be passed his leisure at Madras in educating himself.
It is well known that young CLIVE soon got tired of the civil service, and resigned his Writership fur an Ensigncy in the Company's Army. At this period, the future kings of Leadenhall Street, and their rivals the French, having little if any ground of their own to contend upon, had established a footing in the courts of the native rulers, and took part in the quarrels of their respective friends, formally opposing each other when their nations were at war in Europe, fighting under the name of mercenaries when they were at peace. In this partisan warfare young CLIVE was trained, and perhaps more effectively than if he had studied the tactics and science of Europe, and endeavoured to introduce them where they were inapplicable. In its piogress he greatly distinguished himself on many occasions. The Indians, more especially, were astonished by his celebrated defence of Arcot, rytere, with 200 Europeans and 300 Sepoys, he defended for fifty days, against many thousand natives, 2000 Scpoys, and 150 French- men, a fort whose walls he had not soldiers enough properly to man. The Europeans were impressed by the plan he proposed to Major LAWRENCE, at Seringham, to cut off the communications of the French troops, and the brilliant manner in which he effected it, putting an end to warlike operations by forcing the French and their ally to surrender. After this termination of affairs, Clays, whose health, never very good, had suffered much from the climate, re- turned toEngland, (in 1753,) with a Captaincy, a wife, and some Money collected fiorn prizes, booty, and other Indian methods ; a part of which he generously employed in rescuing his family from pecuniary difficulties, and, apparently, spent the remainder in an expensive mode of living. During his sojourn in England, he seems to have met with much attention in society ; the Court of Directors voted him a sword set with diamonds; and he sat for a short time in Parliament, doubtless by purchase.
In 1755, he returned, by the desire of the Company, as Governor of Fort St. David, with a provisional appointment to suc- ceed to the Governorship of Madras. He had not long reached his destination when the news arrived of the capture of Calcutta by SURAJ-U-DOWLAH, Nabob of Bengal, followed by the well-known catastrophe of the Black Hole. The health of LAWRENCE would not admit of his commanding the expedition : Colonel CLIVE was therefore appointed ; and, in conjunction with Admiral WATSON, 800n retook Calcutta, captured Hooghley, and frightened the tyrant into terms of peace and restitution. And now comes "the tale that blends his glory with his shame." CLIVE held that the Com- pany had gone too far to retreat ; that having waged successful war against a native prince, nothing remained but to assume a commanding attitude and reduce him to dependence, or to abandon Bengal altogether. SURAJ-U-DOWLAH was a weak and tyrannical person, the alternate slave of his vices, his avarice, and his menials. The defeat he had sustained, it was argued, and the degradation to which he found himself reduced, would rankle in his mind; the same rapacity which first induced him, in despite of justice, or rather perhaps of reason, to attack Calcutta, would be inflamed as heretofore ; and if these motives were non-existent, the influence of the French in his service would always [be used to annoy, and in war to expel, the English. These reasons were strong; cir- cumstances favoured their being acted upon. War with Frarc was declared : the French factory agents admitted that the neu- trality they had engaged for could not be enforced against any superior force commanded by higher powers than themselves; so Chandernagore was attacked and taken. The Nabob shuffled in fulfilling some demands : his weakness and tyranny were such that an extensive conspiracy was formed against him by his own officers, and application was made to the English to countenance it. And then began a scene of policy, intrigue, and jobbing, without parallel, and which in its characteristic details has the air and interest of a tragi-comedy. CLIVE and the Com- mittee at Calcutta stipulated to raise MEER JAFFIER, his chief officer, to the rousnud, for considerable public advantages to the Company and very large private remuneration to themselves. The plot was advancing rapidly, when one OMICHUND, an agent of SURAJ-U-DOWLAH, threatened to betray it, unless he were gua- ranteed thirty lacs of rupees over and above what had been before assigned to him as his share. The success of the scheme and the lives of many of its agents were of course at stake. To silence *Iris man, a fictitious treaty was entered into ; and on Admiral WAT- SON refusing to sign it, the Committee affixed or rather forged his name. And every thing being prepared, CLIVE threw off the mask and advanced. The hostile armies met on the field of Plessey; where the Nabob, in despite of his vast superiority of numbers, was defeated and fled ; but being taken a few days after, lie was murdered by the son of his successor. MEER JAF- FIER having been firmly fixed in the Nabobship, fulfilled the treaty into wh:ch he had entered, and rewarded CLIVE by an ad- ditional "present." The public stipulations belong to history ; into the mercenary details we are not about to enter : let it suffice to say, that CL1vE made by this business 234,000/. The dis- organized state into which the affairs of the English were thrown by the capture of Calcutta, the catastrophe of the Black Hole, and the acquisition of territory and power consequent on CLIVE'S suc- cess, naturally pointed him out as the proper person to whom the powers of government should be committed. This office of Go- vernor de facto was subsequently confirmed by the Directors, on the arrival of the news of the battle of Plessey, although they bad at first determined otherwise. In this high office Cue's ap- pears to have conducted himself with prudence, policy, and jus- tice. He organized the administration; protected the natives; managed MEER JAFFIER, a weak-minded man, for his own good; maintained the interests of the Company, and the honour of the country, in his courageous and politic resistance to a Dutch arma- ment, which endeavoured to get footing in Bengal ; and detached a force that paralyzed the French operations on the coast of Coromandel. He also checked with a vigorous hand any dis- position at extortion on the part of subordinates ; and having ex- pelled an invader from the Nabob's territories, he himself received from that potentate a jaghire, or reserved rent, on the territery granted to the Company, of at least 27,000/. a year. Differences with the Directors, who became jealous of the reputation he had acquired in England, and were offended with the freedom of his despatches, as well as a natural desire to revisit his family and enjoy his fortune and fame at home, induced him to retire from Bengal in 1759, with a fortune, as we have already said, of at least 40,000/. per annum. On his arrival in England, Crave was received by the King and Ministry with distinction, and outwardly welcomed by the Directors. He also appears (fur this part of Sir JOHN'S narrative is not very clear) to have commenced a style of living propor- tioned to his fortune, and to have secured extensive Parlia- mentary interest—of course by pecuniary means, for they were the only ones open to him. Before, however, he could be said to have established himself, he was attacked by a severe illness, which confined him to his bed for nearly a twelvemonth. On his reco- very he was made an Irish Peer, with the promise of' a red riband : he seems to have expected an English Peerage and the immediate investiture. He had previously, however, received a deeper shock than an attack upon his pride, in the shape of an intimation from the Court of Directors that his title to the jag- hire would be questioned. This dropped on his recovery ; but Crave's opposition to some of the Directors in politics, and his in- terference in the squabbles at the India House, widened the breach. A suit was instituted against him; but before many steps were taken, the state of affairs in Bengal became such as to enable him to triumph over all his enemies. On quitting India, CLIVE, by orders from home, left behind him as Governor Mr. VANSITTART—a well-meaning, well-in- formed man, but utterly incapable of controlling the rapacious and unprincipled extortioners by whom he was surrounded, not only in Council but in all other places. Every one aspired to the fortune of CLIVE, without possessing his abilities, his courage, or his opportunities. A most frightful scene of rapacity and cor- ruption ensued. And it would seem that the highly-coloured pictures of BURKE and SHERIDAN, in the orations against HASTING,, would have been under-statements applied to the acts of the Bengal servants between 1757 and 1764. " There were now new men, a new Council to be satisfied, and the principles of the revolution of 1757 were not forgotten. It was discovered that there was a necessity for another revolution : and accordingly, in 1760, MEER COSMI was placed in the seat of MEER. JAFFIER." ID this change neither the interests of the Company nor of the Councillors were forgotten. The latter divided amongst them upwards of 200,000/.,* and extorted a treaty, which they construed in such a way as to enable all the English, and the agents of the English, to trade in any part of the new Nabob's dominions free of duty; thus depriving the sovereign of his revenue, and his subjects of their trade,—for those who paid taxes could not contend with those who did not. Extortion, insolence, and tyranny. were practised not only by the Company's servants, but the natives in their employ, till at last MEER COSSIII took up arms, massacred the English at Patna, met the Company's forces in the field, and, after a severe • struggle, was defeated. but escaped. MEER JAFFIER was then restored ; and on his death, which took place soon after, fresh " presents" were extorted from his successor, in despite of a Directorial order forbidding them ; whilst, to crown all, pecula- tion and mismanagement had seriously involved the Company's finances.
The successive arrival of these disastrous accounts, dissipated the golden dreams which the holders Gf India stock had been in- dulging. The eyes of almost every proprietor were turned towards CLIVE, as the only man capable of rescuing them front their diffi- culties; and, at a very full General Court, he was unanimously solicited to return to India, the proprietors proposing at the same time the restitution of his jaghire. The latter proposition he de- clined, as it might appear to be taking advantage of a sudden act; but stated he would propose ac !mpromise to the Directors (which was finally accepted). With regard to India, CLIVE expressed his perfect readiness to go, but his determination not to go if the pre- sent Chairman continued in the chair ; for, differing as they did. in their views of Indian policy, it would he impossible for him to accomplish any thing effectually, when his acts were constantly liable to be thwarted by orders from home. After a variety of Directorial schemes, which were defeated by Cuys's firmness,.
• This is the account of the names and proportions— Mr. Vausittart rupees 500,000
Mr. Sumner -40,000
Mr. Holwell 270,000
Mr. M‘Gotire 180,000 Mr. Smyth 184,000
Major Yorke 134,000 General Caillaud 200,000 Mr. il'Guire 75,000 £58,333 28000 :30.937 20,625 15,354 15.454 2'16. 8,750
£200,269
Mr. SULIVAN was driven from the chair at the ensuing election, and CLIVE'S friends mustered strong in the Directory. He then
departed for India, not with the sole authority, which he required, but with a Committee, named by himself, whose powers were su- perior to those of the Council of Caleutta. The two next years (1765-1767) were the two most arduous and the most glorious of Catve's life. Opposed almost to a man by every civilian and every military officer in Bengal, and disap- pointed in the firmness of some of the Committee of his own -ohoosing, be had to contend single-handed against the gigantic abuses of the settlement; to detect and punish private extortion and public exaction, and to guard, as far as possible, against their future occurrence; to reduce to order the disorganized civil and imilitary functions of the state; to restore the finances; and to pacify the discontented or warlike native chieftains. The combined energy of his character and influence of his name enabled him to accomplish these things, as well as to suppress a formidable mu- tiny of nearly the whole of the officers of the army, in consequence of a reduction in their batta. In the execution of this difficult task, Cataries exertions were unwearied. He was frequently travelling from station to station, and that with the greatest speed in a burning climate. On one occasion he had not three hours sleep any night or day for a fortnight; and in addition to the necessary business on his hands, he was at times engaged in an extensive correspondence. His disinterestedness was remarkable. He bad voluntarily pledged hitnself at starting to receive nothing beyond his emoluments as Governor; and he kept his pledge. He declined all the presents that were offered him by Nabobs and their ministers; he kept an exact account of his re- ceipts and expenditure; and be handed over the balance to three gentlemen who accompanied him in semi-official capacities,
leaving himself, as he said with ludicrous particularity, minus "five thousand eight hundred and sixteen pounds sixteen shil- lings and ninepence."
Could CLIVE have remained longer in Bengal, as the Directors wished and he himself intended, it is probable that many of the
abuses that occurred between this period and the close of the
century might have been prevented. But, at the end of 1766, he was attacked with a severe liver complaint, and compelled to leave India, or remain and die. On his return he was received
with distinction, both by the public and the Directory, which had already expressed their high approbation of his conduct, and
voted the continuation of the jaghire for ten years longer than he had offered to hold it. But these appearances were deceitful. He had left powerful enemies at home; and many whom he had superseded or exposed in his late dictatorship were his bitterest • foes, and he was soon made to feel their enmity.
The next three or four years of his life woe passed in quiet, but scarcely, it may be thought, in happiness. Heine and Indian
politics disturbed him » ; his great misery, however, must have been his health. It may be assumed that be possessed great muscular power, but his constitution was not naturally strong; it had been shaken by climate and exertion; he had always been subject to a
depression of spirits, and spasmodic attacks, and his liver was now irretrievably injured. The greater part of his time appears to have
passed in seeking relief from his complaints at different watering- places, and in writing letters or memorials on Lilian afildrs, which were again in confusion owing to the contest with Hvoset in the
Climatic, and to the recurrence of the old spirit of rapacious cor- ruption. The Company, deeply in debt, borrowed motley of Government. Their affairs were brought beflure Parliament. The
Ministers, occupied at home, and ignorant of Indian affairs, were
indisposed to move; yet something was necessary to be done; anti, after some delay, some debating, and various attacks upon CLIVE
out of doors, BURGOYNE moved for a Committee on Indian °Millis.
He seems to have had no other object than to make a speech on a popular topic. When the Committee assembled, he was unpro- vided with a plan of inquiry. Governor Jon NSTONE, the brother of a member of the Council whose misdoings CLIVE bad de- tected, proposed a view of the subject which should embrace an
historical inquiry from our first attaining a territorial footing in Bengal ; and in the conduct of it he contrived, with the assistance of his party at the India House, to make Lord Ctove.'s actions a prominent feature, and to institute the most searching inquiry into their minutest details. The Committee lasted a twelvemonth; and, a few days after he had brought up the reports, BURGOYNE moved, in a speech of severe invective against CLIVE, a series of resolutions, having for their basis, that all acquisitions made under the influence of military force belong of right to the state, and that to appropriate them to private use is illegal. Having carried these, he, a week after, proposed a more specific declaration, pointedly ,affecting CLIVE; which he prefaced by a speech of considerable power and exquisite finish, so far as can be judged by the skele- ton that has come down to us. He attacked CLIVE by argument, by hortative, and by irony of the most polished kind. his narra- tive, in both speeches, is comprehensive without being tedious; and although telling tremendously against his victim, yet it would be -difficult to point out any positive misrepresentations, whilst the .entire drift was to trace up to Calm as to an original source of .evil, all the disasters that had befallen the Company, all the miseries under which the natives had groaned, and all the tyranny and extortion of the English. A long and warm debate ensued ; which ended in the House affirming the receipt of the " presents," omitting the censure, and resolving that "ROBERT Lord Calve did at the same time render great and meritorious services to his country."
Thus ended this memorable prosecution, and with it almost the life of CLIVE. To say that it killed himovould be absurd; but be seems never to have recovered the blow. His pride was hurt by
the charges brought against him and the obloquy cast upon him.; he is said to have felt keenly the ingratitude of the East India
Company; and although he bore up with outward calmness, be
Was harassed as to the resuln—which aimed, as a first step, at the confiscation of his whole fortune, after which he was to have part
of it refunded according to his deserts. Something also should be allowed for temper : he had so long been accustomed to domineer over princes and ministers, that he could ill brook the attacks of the press and the Parliamentary freedom of remark by men who
were his inferiors in rank and fortune. He lingered for about eighteen months after his acquith 1; and died, at his house in Berkeley Square, on the `22d November 1774, in the fiftieth year of his age, worn out by exertion, climate, and a complication of disorders. He retained hia senses, but displayed great impatiem::: under the agonies he endureil during the two last days. To re- lieve the pain he had recourse to larger quantities of opium than usual ; a circumstance which, coupled with his excited state of mind, might perhaps have hastened dissolution, Tested by any standard. ROBERT CLIVE was a remarkable man. He possessed indomitable courage, great capacity, and a more pali- tic, comprehensive, and far-seeing mind, than the two other famous adventurers of his class, CORTES and PIZARRO. Like all success- ful men of action, he had in a high degree the faculty of (let clog talent and of seeing the most useful direction in which it could be employed; he had, moreover, the rarer quality of never allowing his personal likes or dislikes to interfere with his public nomi- nations. He was prompt and resolved in his decision, never shrunk from responsibilty, and was intolerant. of the interference of others. He had the power of influencing the minds of those with whom he came in contact; but, it may be conjectured, rather by fear than love, unless in the case of personal friends, and even to them he dealt hard knocks when ater he found or fancied cause of offence. His panegyrist would dwell upon the nice adjust- ment of boldness and caution displayed in Carve's great conquest. His opponent would hold that he applied to. policy the artifice of war, compassing his designs by treachery as much as by skill. The indifferent man of the world, judging by the universal prac- tice of his successors, would suppose there was something peculiar in the Indian character, which required to be dealt with in a peen- liar manner, and would feel disposed to make some allowances in his favour. The philosopher would at once decide that his morality was not in advance of' his age; and that, looking at other parts of his career, whatever his notions of public right or wrong might be, CLIVE always followed that conduct which was most advantageous. The stigma of extortion which attaches to Iris mune may be dismissed; that of pecuniary cuprlity is not so easily got rid of. This iii biographer has felt, and struggles hard to defend him. MEER .1^.FFIER, says he, woull have given as much to any native who had assisted into in the same way, and the amount was not thought any Olin; extraordinary in Ben- gal : which may be all true enough, but CLtvli was an English- man, pot an Indian. The acceptance of presents by the factors 'night be an established rule, but it is a sorry defence or one man's cupidity, to oppose to it that of others. CLIVE'S, moreover, was an unprecedented position; he stood in a new situation, mad was paid, in reality, by a foreign F:tentate, for services effected by a force lie commanded as the agent of others. Something must undoubtedly be allowed for the grosser corruption of his age ; a good deal for the mercenary spirit then universal in India, where every man, from the Governor and General down to the Chaplain, was remunerated by permission to trade on his Own account, and when councils of war, at which very junior officers assisted, were held before the attack on any place to determine the share of the booty. It is true that CLIVE received nothing Lana subordinates, but only from a sovereign; that this sovereign always entertained a regard for him, and on his deathbed be- queathed him a legacy amounting to about 70,000L, with which Ire founded a fund for the soldiery. But after all, though Cat yes laurels were not "stained with blood," they were "ill exchanged for gold." And a kind of retributive justice attended it: poor, he might have defied the world—gorged with riches, he was vul- nerable to the meanest foe. It has even pursued his flume ; and be is less popularly known as the Indian conqueror than as tit 1 Indian Cicesus.
In his personal character, CLIVE was very liberal to his family and friends. He was reserved to strangers, open and jocose to his intimates, and partial to the company of ladies. His expen- diture was lavish, and he appears to have exhibited much Of that taste for display which characterizes the nouveau riche. Ira dress be was particular, or rather fine, and he had a curious taste in linen. Judging from the portrait prefixed to the volumes, his appearance was not prepossessing: and we are told by a contemporary writer in the Biographiu Britannica, that "his per- son was of the largest of the middle-size ; his countenance In- clined to sadness, and that the heaviness of his brow, arising from a natural fulness in the flesh above the eyelid, impelled an un- pleasing expression to his features." In his friendships be was firm, and equally resolute in his enmity. Sir Jotter Alaacoast says that he always retained a deep sense of religion; but we have no particu'ar traces of it in the Lel k. This work is not of a nature to afford continuous extracts, but we will select a few anecdotes to carry out out sketch. The first of the following calls to mind the exploit of ALCULLADES. 'I be Athenian, -however,-tnight have-been too- fastidious to have lailt in. A -VISIT TO BEULAH SPA.
a gutter. THE announcement of a gala.day at Beulah Spa, on Monday, seemed Clive was wont to levy from some of theshopkeepers m of Market Drayton contributions in pence and trifling article, in compensation to hiself and the to afford a fitting opportunity for seeing the improvements made in eke chievous tricks ; and one old man mentioned to a gentleman, who resided near Styche, that he had been repeatedly told by a person who witnessed the action,
tbat when it little dam broke, whieli the boys had made across the gutter in the parties on the road to Norwood. The di ive is a very pleasant one; the Street for the purpose of overflowing a small shop, with the owner of which prospect from the ascent of Tulse hilt almost deserves the epithet they had quarielled. Clive unhesitatingly threw his body into the gutter, and beautiful, though its little round-topped hills dotted with trees, swell- remained there till they had repaired their work of mischief. * • lug gently from out beds of foliage interspersed with villas, are beauties One well-authenticated and extraordinary instance is recorded of his bold- of an humble order. ness as a boy. The church at Market Drayton which stands on the side of a Instead of enumerating the improvements in the laying out of the hill, has a lofty steeple, near the top of which is a stone spout of the form of a
grounds of the Spa, we will just take a sketch of them as they now ap- dragon's head. It was with no slight surprise and Aim his companions and some of the inhabitants saw young Clive seated oil thi spout, and evincing by pear, for the benefit of our country readers: leaviog such as have his manner an indifference, if not insensibility, to the danger of his situation. visited the place before to infer the nature of the alterations.
hills, forming a crescent covered with a thick copse of oak, opening to resting in itself, as showing the desolate state of CLIVE on his
the South-west. You enter the grounds through a gate abottingen first arrival in India, and as indicative of that depression of spirits the main road, before a picturesque lodge, designed in the old English which a few years afterwards rendered an attendant necessary style of architecture. A carriage-drive sweeps along the side of the during his rmwery from a fever. woody amphitheatre, about midway from the valley ; being a private It is a curious nod not uninstructive sight to observe the man who, in a road to Croydon, and forming the boundary line of the walks of
few years was to raise himself by his COnlinantling talents and heroic daring to the Spa. The visiters to the Spa follow a foot-path, that leads an acknowledged preeminence above all his countrymen in the East, for several by a winding descent into a plateau or lawn, of ample extent, in months after his first touching on the shorts of that country, the scene of his
future glory, acknowledging that he knew not one family in it, and shrinking with a sensitive diffidence from the exertion of intioduring himself. Though affectionate, he was wayward and reserved. From this time till 1746, when n
Madras was taken, there are no accounts of hina except some anecdotes, tend- spring, which rises into a yell fifteen feet deep, whence the water is ing to prove that he was very ill suited to the condition of life in which he was drawn up as it is wanted in a glass bucket. Behind the well is a semi placed. Ills impatience of control and wayward and impracticable firmness circular range of terraced colonnades, having leading and refreshment
never forsook him. On one occasion it appears that his conduct to the Secre- rooms in the centre. These are tastefully constructed in rustic style; tory under whom the Wiiters were placed on their first arrival, was so incon- and when the creeping plants have overgrown them a little, the sistent with the rules of official disciplioe, that the Governor to whom it was effect will be still more picturesque than it is at present. The reported, commanded him to ask that gentleman's pardon. With this order he copse is intersected by numerous gravelled walks, bordered with complied rather ungraciously ; but the Secretary immediately after, before his
irritation had time to subside, having invited him to dioner—" No, Sir, re- plied Clive, " the Governor did out command toe to dine with you." Ile is des the grounds ; which is more than a mile and a half long,
stated to have hazaided, on moth that, one orcasion, the loss of the service by
acts of wildness: and a story was long current, that, either in a fit of despair these shady paths, you ever and anon come to a seat, which commands or of low spirits, to which he was subject from his earliest years, he made, at a pretty peep through the vista on to the lawn below. Between the horns this period, an attempt upon his own life. A companion, corning into his of the crescent, the ground alopes down to a little artificial lake, with room in Writer's Buildings, was requested to take up a pistol and lire it out of a rustic bridge over an embryo cascade, having a high bank on one side the window -: he did so (and it went off). Clive, who was sitting in a very cut so as to form an ottoman of turf, where the visiter may recline at glonmy mood, sprang up, and exclaimed, " Well, I am reserved for something! ease watching the swans and other water-fowl. Near to this is the That pistol," said he to his astonished fliend, " I have twice snapped at toy llosery.—a circle of considerable diameter formed of arches of wire,
own head." over which are trained various sorts of roses: the plants, however, are
Here is a specimen of his courage, and a significant hint of the not fully grown yet ; and moreover, this o os the site of an enormous cir- sort of gentry uho then held commissions in the Company's ser- colas marquee, where the concert took place on this occasion : we
vice. therefore did not see it to advantage. Not far from hence is the Maze,
Soon aft a his arrival at tbis place, he was engsged in a doe with an officer, where the visiters may lose themselves to an agreeable extent—not to th whom he had bat some money at cards, but who, with his comp:Lubin, was a despairing eacess of perplexity ; and on every hand grottoes of tree. clearly proved to have played Nufairly. Ciive was not the only loser ; but the roots, paved with logs and inlaid with branches, and turfed recesses others were terrified into payo.eot hy the threats of those who had won their
money. This example had no criact on him : he per,isted ill refusing to pay,
and was cal lea out by one of them, who deemcd himself instated by his conduct.
They met without sermals: Clive fietd, awl mased his antagonist; oto imme•
diately came up close to him aial held the pistol to his head, dr siriog him to One avenue leads across the carriage-road up the steep ascent of the ask his life, with which ha complied. TI:e next demand was, to meant his higher part of the amphitheatre to the Terrace ; whence there is an ex- assertions respecting unfair play. On compliance with this being refused, his tensive and beautiful view, embracing Knoekholt Beeches, Banstead his opponent threatened to shoot him. " Fire, and he 11-11," said the dauntless Dom's, Windsor Castle, and the Hampshire Hills. In the middle young man : " I said you cheated ; I say so still, anti I will never pay you." distance are seen Beckenham, with its taper spire; Addiscombe and The astonished &liver threw away his pistol, sit ing. Clive was mad. Tae Croydon, %vitt, the dark heather of the Addington Hills ; Shooter's latter received Irma his young, companions many complimeots for the spirit he 11111, Blackheath, 1kc. The day was misty, and looking in the direc- had shown; hut he not only declined coming forwtrd against the officer with whom he hail fought, hut never afterwards spoke of his behaviour at the card. mote objects in the panorama were not distinctly visible. The morn- table. " Ile has given me toy life," be said, " and though I am reso:ved on
never paying money ohich was unfailly won, or again associating with him, I shall never do him an injury." so much obscured by clouds as to screen its rays from the eye, and This anecdote is characteristic of the man; though the closing show them shed over the scene.
remark looks as if the " present"- was not quite spontaneous. The scene is the Committee-room of the House of Gimnions— III SO fine a situation, the buildings would have an imposing effect,— Governor Johnstone, after some deliberation, suddenly rose, and with appa- rent exultation observed, " It was new sufficiently proved on the proeerdings, which is well shown in a lithographic view of the intended buildings ; that his Lordship had reecived upwards of 100,0001. 50011 after the battle of and the view fro:n the houses would be splendid. In one direction, the Plassey ;" when Lord Clive, rising from his seat, calmly replie I, that " If any grounds of the Spa below and the prospect we have described beyond; gentleman of the Committee bad privately asked hint if that charge was true, and in the other—from the convex front facing the high road—the eye he should have frankly acknowledged to him that he had received a much larger would range over toe course of the Thames from London to Green- SUM ;'. adding, " but when I recollect entering the Nabob's treasury at atom- wieh, with the towers of the Abbey and the dome of St. Paul's sus- shedaharl, with heaps of gold :and silver to the right and left, and these crowned pended in the atmosphere of smoke like a huge inverted balloon, rising with jewels," striking his hand violently on his head, " by Gml, at this moment " proudly eminent" from the mass of buildings. What a noble addition do I stand astonished at my own moderation." to the distant view of the metropclis BARRY'S great tower of the In a commission which Clive sent to his friend Mr. Orme, there is an visiters to the Spa is greatly wanted. Many persons of rank.patr.o-
amusing instance of his attention to the most trilling parts of his dress.
" I must now trouble you." he obset yes, " with a few commissions concern- ing nize the Beulah Spa, and an aristocratic example is sure to prevail is family affairs. Imprimi,, what you can provide must be of the best and would-be peopla of fashion; so that the metropolitan Cheltenham la la finest you can get for hwe or money: two hundred shirts, the wristbands a fair way of thriving. worked, some .of the ruffles worked with a border either in squares or points, The Beulah waters seem to possess superior sanative efficacy, and and the rest plain; stocks, neckcloths, and handkerchiefs in proportion; three are likewise more palatable than those of Cheltenham, judging from eorge a .of the finest stockings ; several pieces of plain and spotted muslin, two the comparative analysis of the two springs by Messrs. HUME and yards wide, for aprons ; book-nouslins; cambries; a few pieces of the finest FARADAY. In the Beulah saline, sulphate of magnesia is the pre- dimity ; and a complete set of table linen of Fort St. David's diaper, made for dominating ingredient, instead of common salt as at Cheltenham : but
the purpose." we refer the reader to Dr. IVEATHERIIEAD'S pamphlet for an account
A ?CAROB'S ADVICE.
" The best and soundest advice I can give you is, to return to England ra- of the medicinal virtues of Beulah Spa. thee with a moderate competency, while you have youth and constitution to The air, too, must be pure and • bracing, the site being above the enjoy t, than by staying longer, lose that -youth and sacrifice that constitution average height to which the London fogs rise ; and to the valetudi- which no riches ran possibly compensate for. Doping soon to see you in En g- narian whose avocations prevent him from going far from the m etropo- had, I am, dear Sir, your sincere friend and affectionate kinsman, his, the Beulah Spa is a very agreeable and efficient substitute for
This work was published in the spring. By some accident which scenery is as fine as any round London.
we could not prevent and cannot explain, it has only just reached We are forgetting the Nte, however: and to say the truth, we pre- us. The reputation of the hero and the solid matter of the fer the quiet of the gardens on an ordinary occasion, for our own pn- volumes render this delay of less consequence than in a lighter or cute gratification. There was a very nice concert in the marquee ; the more ephemeral publication. In one sense it may be advantageous., principal vocalists being Mr. Hoses and Mr. and Mrs. Frrzwiwam. as it has crumbled us to bestow greater space upon it than it could Ramo SAMEE performed his jugglery feats on a dais in the centre. of
have received in the bustle of the season. the lawn; round which the company were grouped in a circle, sitting,