Thirty years ago, James Bruce was two-and-twenty, and carried an air of seniority over his comrades who were but one-and-twenty. Yet he was the frank and fluent one, and they the shy and reserved. James Andrew Ramsay was Scotch, as Bruce was. The third, Charles John Canning was, I need not say, English. Ramsay was the son of an earl; Bruce of an earl also,—the Earl of Elgin, who brought over the marbles which visitors to the British Museum know so well: and Canning was no doubt prouder of the title of son of his father than his friends could be of their ancestral honours. We should be glad to know now the turn that conversation took between these youths when they anticipated their careers of active life: and there is something very solemn in looking back upon the unconsciousness in which they were living of the remarkable relation their three lives were to bear to each other. All three no doubt assumed that political service would occupy their years and their energies, and they might often imagine how they would act together, and what guidance their co-operation might impress upon events: but no speculations, plans or dreams of their own could approach in singularity and gravity the actual developments which have been witnessed by some of us who were men when they were schoolboys, and who live to tell their story over two of their three graves.
It was in 1833 that they took their honours at Oxford. In another ten years, Bruce, having succeeded to his father’s title, and been thereby removed from the House of Commons, was governing Jamaica. He ruled with sense and courage, but with a heavy heart; for on arriving with his young wife, they underwent a fearful shipwreck; and she escaped death at the moment only to die immediately after in childbed. The daughter then born was the bridesmaid of the Princess of Wales last month. The other two friends were in the public service also. Ramsay had become the tenth Earl of Dalhousie; and he was now Vice-President of the Board of Trade, and a Privy-Councillor. Canning was Under Secretary for Foreign Affairs in the Peel ministry of that time. Thus far, the duties of the three comrades lay wide apart, and there was no indication of any peculiar bond which was to unite their names for posterity. The time, however, was approaching.
When the second ten years came to an end, Lord Elgin had made himself a sound and high reputation as Governor-General of Canada. His second wife, the eldest surviving daughter of Lord Durham, was living among the scenes she had known when her father was saving and regenerating Canada, and seeing her husband carrying out, with great energy and discretion, her father’s policy. Lord Canning was now at the Post Office, relinquishing his patronage, and devoting his energies to carry to perfection a department of the public service which could never bring him any brilliant honours or rewards. Some of us may be able to recal some feelings of mortification on the one hand, or of amusement on the other, at the son of George Canning being known as the steady and diligent man of business, of moderate ability and languid ambition, satisfied to have something useful to do. Such was the common notion of the man: but he had two friends at least who could have told us that we did not know him yet.
And where now was Lord Dalhousie? He seemed to stand as much higher than Elgin as Elgin stood higher than Canning. He was Governor-General of India.
At first, the public wondered that a man should be taken from the Board of Trade to rule such an empire as India: but it was not very long before the world became occupied with him as a statesman, far more than as an economist; and we heard a great deal of his policy. The Indian policy of Lord Dalhousie became one of the chief topics of public interest; and it was felt that there must be something remarkable about the man who was the youngest statesman ever appointed to a position of such responsibility. Great mistakes were made about his policy,—partly from the ignorance of Indian affairs then prevalent in England, and partly from his own excessive reserve. Because the Punjaub came into our possession in his time, and then some smaller States, and at length Oude, it was assumed that Lord Dalhousie’s policy was one of “annexation.” It may be better seen elsewhere how untrue this was, and how much more earnestly the Governor-General desired many things than any extension of our Indian territory. In this place I can point out only two or three incidents which mark the spirit of his rule, and link his destiny with that of his early friends.
He was, if not the father, the guardian of the Great East Indian Railway: and when he stood to witness the departure of the first train, he was witnessing the doom of the hitherto invincible ignorance, prejudice, and superstition of India. Within a little while, he saw the Hindoo priests, and teachers, and public, discussing the subject of pilgrimages,—the merits of which seemed to be largely affected by the ease with which the country could now be traversed by steam. He established in some regions a system of vernacular schools, and advanced the education of the people with as much zeal as any predecessor, and with far more wisdom than the wisest. While our Indian empire itself was growing, and while the minds and fortunes of the people within it were growing in full proportion, Lord Dalhousie had a heavy care on his mind. So many officers were withdrawn from military duty for other service,—political, civil engineering, and administrative in various ways;—that he was alarmed about the military efficiency of the forces in the country. Again, those forces were declining in number, while the new extensions of territory required an increase. He was anything but an alarmist; but he urged a strong reinforcement of officers; and also a distribution of the troops, by which the safety of the country might be better secured than it could be while European battalions were withdrawn from Bengal, for service in the Crimea and in Pegu, and to garrison our new territories to the north-west. He said there must be three more battalions in Bengal; and the distribution of the troops must be rearranged. When he