that were now definitely rising into prominence out of the confusion of the previous half-century, yet we were still confronted by jealous rivals, and our dominions were not large in proportion to those of other states.
Two things, nevertheless, had been demonstrated by the struggle that had been sustained by the English nation. It had been proved in the first place that the united naval forces of Europe could not drive England from the sea, or wrest from her the command of the great routes across the ocean between Europe and Asia. Secondly, it had become clear by this time that, so long as their transmarine communications with the mother country could be preserved, and so long as their invaluable possession of Bengal remained undisturbed, the English ran no risk of permanent or vital injury either from the Marathas or from Mysore. The position of these two formidable fighting powers in the centre and south of India undoubtedly still operated as a check upon the English, and they could have diverted our forces to an extent which might have placed us in some jeopardy, if any hostile state of heavy warlike calibre had become established about this time in Upper India. This might easily have happened, for the wide and wealthy plains of the northwest had hitherto been always the seat, and the source, of the largest and strongest military rulerships. But it so chanced, by the good luck which has always attended the English in India, that toward the end of the eighteenth century, when the Marathas and the Mysore dynasty were strong and threatening, England had little or nothing
