LORD CLIVE.

SIR WILLIAM FORWOOD in a letter to last Saturday's Times calls attention to the curious fact that there is no statue or other public monument to Lord Clive in Calcutta, or in any other part of India.. The • lover of paradox might perhaps profess to regard this circum- stance with satisfaction. He might argue that while statues of so many petty men and doers of petty deeds flaunt their bronze or marble in the public eye, it is better that the really great men should live only in the hearts Of their countrymen. For ourselves, we cannot agree with such ingenious pedantries. We holds that it is advisable by means of material monuments to .put men in mind of the great of former days, and to keep alive the record of noble actions by visible symbols. Not only Ehould we like to see worthy statues of Clive in Calcutta. and Madras, but also in London itself. It is no doubt appropriate that Shrewsbury should have a statue of the Shropshire hero, but it is not right that it should be his only memorial in these islands. That Clive was in every sense worthy of commemoration cannot be doubted by those who take the trouble to study and understand his career. Not only is be worthy for what he did, but fcir what he was. Clive'is not one of the great men who need apology, or of whom it, must be said that the greatness of their achievements must excuse the blemishes of their private character. Clive was never ashamed of any of his actions, and if they are fairly and impartially studied his countrymen need not be ashamed of them either. Though essentially a bold, self-sufficing man who cared little for the opinion of others so long as he acted'up to his own standard of right and wrong, Clive was in no sense unscrupulous. We- do not, of course, wish to say that he never did a 'wrong thing, but any fair con- sideration of his career will show that he never did what was wrong knowing it to be wrong and helplessly regretting it. His was, indeed, a will like a dividing spear, which knew neither fears nor regrets, but his mind was without the slightest taint of Machiavellism. He did not do what he realised was base in order to achieve the expedient. He made no ' Jesuitical distinctions between means and ends, but went straight for his object with a clear' conscience.

Clive's attitude in regard to the accusations brought against him as to his treatment of Omichund is typical of the whole man. He never dreamed of defending himself on the ground that circumstances forced him to do a wicked deed. On the contrary, he gloried in the fact that he had outwitted a blackmailer and ruined him at his evil game. We do not want here to argue again the moral question in regard to the deception of Onuchund, but it may be worth while to say something as to how Clive regarded it. It appears to us to have been much as a man in private life might regard the unmasking of a blackmailer. Let us suppose that an ordinary private citizen receives a letter from a scoundrel threatening him with certain consequences if he does not promise to pay .a large sum of money. If in these circumstances the private citizen engages in a correspondence with the blackmailer in order to get the latter into the hands of the police, are we to blame him or to say that the stratagem by which the blackmailer is finally defeated leaves a stain on the private citizen's chattoter because this stratagem involved, say, the writing of letters which seemed to admit the accusation and specifically promised to pay the blackmail demanded Most men, we think, would engage in such a transaction without any sense of wrongdoing, and would, indeed, throughout the rest of their lives be proud of what they had done. This appears to have been exactly Clive's attitude. For example, in his speech in the House of Commons on May 19th, 1773, he thus deals with the point. After describing the arrangement for the over- throw of the Nawab's authority made with Omichund and the rest of the conspirators, he proceeds :— " When all things were prepared, and the evening of the event was appointed, Omichund informed Mr. Watts, who was at the court of the Nawab, that he insisted upon thirty lakhs of rupees, and five per cent. upon all the treasure that should be found ; that, unless that was immediately complied with, he would disclose the whole to the Nawab ; and that Mr. Watts, and the two other English gentlemen then at the court, should be cut off before the morning. Mr. Watts, immediately on this information, despatched an express to me at the ConnelL I did not hesitate to find out a stratagem to save the lives of these people, and secure success to the intended event. For this purpose we signed another treaty. The one was called the red, the other the white treaty."

No doubt it can be asserted that the lives of Mr. Watts and the two other Englishmen might equally well have been saved by what is called " honestly yielding" to the demands of Omichund; but we venture to say that if such a line of action were universally adopted, the world would be absolutely at the mercy of the blackmailer.. In our opinion, and in the opinion, we believe, of most honourable men who have to deal with practical affairs, public or private, the principle of "consent under duress " is applicable. The law does not insist on the carrying out of a contract made under threats. For example, if A puts a pistol. to B's head and forces B to sign a. cheque for £10,000 or execute some contract beneficial to A, the law will relieve B of the. consequences of his act. In other words, if the story of Omichund's threats had been

told in a CoUrt of Law, the Court would not have enforced the Treaty. That being so, we cannot but agree with Clive "in his manly refusal to admit that his deception of 'Omichund the blackmailer had in it any element of disgrace. If that element is to be found in the trans- action; it must rather be looked for in the original conspiracy' to overthrow the Nawab and in making use of an instrument so base as Omichuud.

Not only in the moral judgment of the world has Clive suffered wrong. A similar wrong is often done him from the. intellectual, and even from the literary, point of view. The public is apt to regard Clive as a sort of rough-and-ready soldier who did great deeds, but who must not be looked upon as an intellectual statesman so much as a lucky adventurer. Nothing could be further from the truth. Clive was essentially a man of intellect, and the sign of his great intellectual equipment is to be found, as in the case of Abraham Lincoln, first in his power of wide and sound generalisation, and secondly in the vigour and originality of his style. Clive was not only a great general and a great practical statesman, but also a political philosopher, and one of the ablest and most trenchant writers of the eighteenth century. As an example of Clive's political wisdom, and of his sound generalisations as regards Asian rule, we may quote the following sentence, which occurs in the last Minute which he communicated to his Council before he left India :- " The people of this country haie little or no idea of a divided power. They imagine that all authority is vested in one matt." Perhaps the two most remarkable State Tapers written by Clive are the letter addressed to the elder Pitt in 1759 and the letter to Warren Hastings in 1771. The letter to Pitt shows how Clive had already come to see the expediency of tranaferring to the Crown the supreme control and administration of Indian affairs, and how he realised the impossibility of placing sovereignty and other Imperial attributes in the hands of a trading company. A study of the letter to Warren Ilaittings might well be made obligatory on any man about to take up the position of Governor in any part of the British Empire. Take, for example; the following :— " Be impartial and just to the public, regardless of individuals where the honour of the nation and the real advantage of the Company are at stake, and resolute in carrying into execution your determinations, which, I hope, will at all times be rather founded upon your own opinion than that of others. The business of politics and finance being so extensive, the Committee should not be embarrassed with private concerns. They ought not, therefore, to be allowed to trade. But their emoluments ought to be so large as to render trade unnecessary to the attainment of a competent fortune."

Or take again this powerful plea for optimism,—that is, for confidence in onea own abilities and in the abilities of one's race and nation to succeed, which Clive rightly belieied to be one of the antiseptics of Imperial rule :— "From the little knowledge I have of you, I am convinced that you have not only abilities and personal resolution, but integrity and moderation with regard to riches ; but I thought I discovered in you a diffidence in your oWn judgment, and too great an easiness of disposition, which may subject you insensibly to be fed where you ought to guide. Another evil which may arise from it is, that you may pay too great an attention to the reports of the natives, and be inclined to look upon things in the worst instead of the best light. A proper confidence in yourself, and neverfailing hope of success, will be a bar to this, and every other ill that your situation is liable to."

It may be noted here that this letter was written with no view to publication, nor as a proof of the writer's high- mindedness and ability. It ends :L.-" It is perhaps unnecessary to add that this letter, which I have written in the fullest confidence, should be kept entirely to yourself?'

We cannot resist the temptation of giving one or two proofs of our contention regarding Clive's literary ability and power over the English language. What can be more admirable than the end of Clive's letter to the Shahzada, the son of the Mogul, who soon after the battle of Plessey was engaged in a marauding expedition in Bengal at the head of a considerable army? When it appeared that Clive intended to stop this raiding, the army began to melt away, and the Shahzada had to appeal to Clive for aid, and after- wards for money to enable hint to retreat. Clive sent him o`-present of eight thousand' rupees, but- stated that: he was unable to help him further, having received orders from " the Emperor" not only to oppose him, but to lay

hold of his person. Clive concluded his letter with these direct and forcible words :—

" I have only to recommend your Highness to the Almighty's protection. I wish to God it were in my power to protect you, but it is not. I am now on my march to the Karamnassa, and earnestly recommend it to you to withdraw before I arrive

there." •

It is per haps unnecessary to add that, as it turned out, his Highness had withdrawn before Clive's arrival. Equally admirable as a piece of English is Clive's letter to the officers who after Plessey were discontented with the distribution of the prize-money. The malcontent officers wrote to Clive an angry remonstrance. Clive in reply informed them that the money was entirely at his own disposal, and that, instead of his having dealt with them unfairly, it was solely through his personal intervention that they had got anything:— " Yon have stormed no town and found the money there; neither did you find it in the plains of Plassey after the defeat of the Nawab. In short, gentlemen, it pains me to remind you that what you are to receive is entirely owing to the care I took of your interests. . . . . Your behaviour has been such that you cannot expect I should interest myself any further in your concerns."

The result was an instant submission and expression of humility on the part of the officers, whereupon Clive wrote them a letter which may be quoted in full as one of the shortest and best in our language :—

"Gaitamitmax,—I have ever been desirous of the love and good opinion of my officers, and have often pursued their interests in preference to my own. What passed the other day is now for- gotten, and I shall always be glad of an opportunity of con- vincing you how much I am, gentlemen, your most obedient humble servant, ROBERT Clays."

As another example of the thrill of energy and passion, in the, poetic sense, which Clive could infuse into his words we may quote the famous passage in his statement to the Chairman of the Committee of the House of Commons at the close of a long cross-examination :— " Consider the situation in which the victory at Plessey had placed me. A great prince was dependent on may pleasure; an opulent city lay at my mercy ; its richest bankers bid against each other for my smiles ; I walked through vaults which were thrown open to me alone, piled on either hand with gold and jewels! Mr. Chairman, at this moment I stand astonished at my own moderation."

There truly the style is the man, or rather the style and the man are one. But Clive did not merely excel in the expression of indignation, for indignation will often give eloquence to a dull man. Take the following passage in Clive's chief speech in the House of Commons, a passage in which he defends his private secretary, who had been attacked in conjunction with him :- "Another gentleman was my secretary, now a member of this House. He was recommended to me by one of the greatest men in the kingdom, now no more, Mr. Grenville. Many and great are the obligations I have been under to him, but the greatest of all the obligations was his having recommended me to this _gentleman. Without his abilities and indefatigable industry, I could never have gone through my great and arduous under- taking, and in serving me he served the Company."

The statement is perfectly simple and straightforward, and yet Clive manages to make the words vibrate with passion. This same element of passion is to be found in Clive's general defence of the Company's servants from the accusations that were levied against them :— " Indostan was always an absolute despotic government. The inhabitants, especially of Bengal, in inferior stations, are servile, mean, submissive, and humble. In superior stations they are luxurious, effeminate, tyrannical, treacherous, venal, cruel From time immemorial it has been the custom of that country for an inferior never to come into the presence of a superior without a present. It begins at the Nawab, and ends at the lowest man that has an inferior. The Nawab has told me that the small presents he received amounted to £300,000 a year; and I can believe him, because I know that I might have received as much during my last government."

We have said enough to show the fascination of Clive's style, but we will add one more example, the tragic words which Clive addressed to his friend Henry Strachey, the private secretary alluded to above, just before his death. He is dwelling upon the depression caused by ill-health, and he adds : " How miserable is my condition ! I have a disease which makes life insupport- able, but which, my doctors tell me, won't shorten it one hour." Clive's death, it should be remembered, was due, not to remorse or opium, but to the depression caused by some obscure nervous or dyspeptic complaint.