When Europe sought your subject-realms to gain,
And stretched her giant sceptre o'er the main,
Taught her proud barks the winding way to shape,
And braved the stormy spirit of the Cape;
Children of Brama! then was Mercy nigh,
To wash the stain of blood's eternal dye?
Did Peace descend to triumph and to save,
When free-born Britons crossed the Indian wave?
Ah no!—to more than Rome's ambition true,
The muse of Freedom gave it not to you!
She the bold route of Europe's guilt began,
And, in the march of nations, led the van!
We are here to witness a new scene of conquest. The Indian natives were too powerful and populous to permit the Europeans to march at once into the heart of their territories, as they had done into South America, to massacre the people, or to subject them to instant slavery and death. The old inhabitants of the empire, the Hindoos, were indeed, in general, a comparatively feeble and gentle race, but there were numerous and striking exceptions; the mountaineers were, as mountaineers in other countries, of a hardy, active, and martial character. The Mahrattas, the Rohillas, the Seiks, the Rajpoots, and others, were fierce and formidable tribes. But besides this, the ruling princes of the country, whether Moguls or Hindoos, had for centuries maintained their sway by the same power by which they had gained it, that of arms. They could bring into the field immense bodies of troops, which though found eventually unable to compete with European power and discipline, were too formidable to be rashly attacked, and have cost oceans of blood and treasure finally to reduce them to subjection. Moreover, the odium which the Spa-
