with the present system in India. It must, however, be recollected that at that period the receiving of presents was not forbidden by law, or by the covenants of the Company's servants; nor must it be forgotten that the fixed emoluments of the Company's servants were at that time altogether inadequate to remunerate the duties which were required: in some instances they were not even sufficient to provide the means of decent subsistence. The result was that no one ever thought of being satisfied with his pay or salary, and that all were intent upon discovering indirect means of acquiring wealth.[1]
But many of our readers will probably think that this is a trivial matter compared with the general conduct of the English authorities in thus forcibly, and in many respects treacherously, removing the rightful possessor of the musnud of Bengal, to make room for a creature of their own, who had no right whatever to that dignity. This point is so clearly settled by a writer whose views are always just, and whose principles are always honourable,[2] that we cannot refrain from giving the whole argument in extenso.
"The English had suffered great wrongs from the Soubahdar; and though some degree of reparation had been promised, it was clear that he cherished a determination not to fulfil any part of the treaty, if the performance could possibly be evaded. It was not less certain that his hatred of the English was undiminished – that he only waited a favourable opportunity to attack them; and that, when it arrived, the execution of his purpose would probably be attended by atrocities not inferior to those which had marked his entrance into Calcutta. Clive and his colleagues might have decided calmly to wait the time when Suraja Dowlah should feel himself strong enough to strike the meditated blow, or they might have turned their backs upon the success which had already waited on their arms, and abandoned for
