races require drastic treatment, and that where one people can be governed by syllogisms, another only understands the argument of the headsman's sword and the gallows. These considerations must have full and emphatic weight allowed to them when estimating the character of Mahárájá Ranjít Singh.
We only succeed in establishing him as a hero, as a ruler of men and as worthy of a pedestal in that innermost shrine where history honours the few human beings to whom may be indisputably assigned the palm of greatness, if we free our minds of prejudice and, discounting conventional virtue, only regard the rare qualities of force which raise a man supreme above his fellows. Then we shall at once allow that, although sharing in full measure the commonplace and coarse vices of his time and education, he yet ruled the country which his military genius had conquered with a vigour of will and an ability which placed him in the front rank of the statesmen of the century.
The key-note to the Mahárájá's character was selfishness, and it cannot be said that there were any of his servants whom he regarded with gratitude or affection. If there was any exception it was Jamadár Khushhál Singh, a man of inferior ability and degraded habits. But he was served with a devotion which he did not deserve. Sirdár Fateh Singh of Kapúrthala, for whom he publicly made a theatrical demonstration of affection, exchanging
