'With the experience,' he wrote, 'of fourteen months, I can certify to this people having settled down in a manner that could never have been hoped or believed of them; but they have not lost their spirit. ... A large majority of the disbanded soldiers have returned to the plough or to trade, but there are still very many floating on the surface of society; and such is the fickleness of the national character, and so easily are they led by their priests and pundits, and so great is their known pride of race and of a long unchecked career of victory, that if every Sardár and Sikh in the Punjab were to avow himself satisfied with the humbled position of his country, it would be the extreme of infatuation to believe him, or to doubt for a moment that, among the crowd who are loudest in our praise, there are many who cannot forgive our victory or even our forbearance, and who chafe at their own loss of power, in exact proportion as they submit to ours.
'At no period of Anglo-Indian history has any great conquest or crisis been immediately followed by complete peace and security in the countries annexed to our dominion, or by the universal good-will of a people whom we have beaten in the field.'
Such was, perhaps, the greatest difficulty Henry Lawrence had to face. But he had faced and dealt with it and all other difficulties successfully, though only by the exercise of the utmost care, vigilance, and sagacity, as well as vigour and common sense.
By the middle of 1847, however, his health began to give way seriously. A short spell of leave from August to October was tried and found to be insufficient, and after a few weeks he had to turn his face again towards England. At this period, however, all
