committed, as soon as it reached 'the foot of the bridge of the Sutlej;' and they themselves were to transmit 'the gates of sandalwood,' with all honour, through their respective territories to the restored temple of Somnáth. 'The progress of the gates from Firozpur to Somnáth' — wrote Lord Ellenborough to the Queen — 'will be one great national triumph, and their restoration to India will endear the Government to the whole people[1].'
If the former of these manifestos raised some doubts of their author's good taste in holding up Lord Auckland's policy and agents to public censure, the bombastic address to 'All the princes and chiefs and people of India' was read by our countrymen everywhere amid shouts of uncontrollable merriment. At first, indeed, most people regarded it as a mere newspaper squib, not as the genuine product of high official unwisdom. At home, as in India, it was received with general derision by all who were readier to laugh than to weep over an effusion at once so farcical and so full of mischief. It was, in truth, what Kaye calls it, 'a bêtise of the first magnitude.' The 'brothers and friends' addressed by the Governor-General included many millions of Muhammadans, and not a few Muhammadan princes, some of them descended from the countrymen of Mahmúd. In what light would these regard the honours destined for 'this glorious trophy of successful war'? And how many of the Hindu princes and people had ever heard of the alleged
- ↑ Afghan Papers; Lord Colchester.
