remains are Budhistic, a few have relation to Alexander the Great and his Greeks, and a larger number belong to the empires of the GræcoBactrians, Indo-Bactrians, and Scythians. I should, however, require several articles in order to do justice to this subject, and must content myself with merely alluding to it. men. There is a fine wild view from Ranigat up the mountains of the Hindú Kúsh, and it is close to the entrance of the Umbeyla Pass, where, a few years ago, we had some very severe fighting with the hillTheir conduct had rendered it necessary to teach them a lesson, and a large British force was sent intot he pass; but the Afghans swarmed down upon it in large numbers and fought like devils. The British soldier did not show to his usual advantage in this campaign, and one regiment retreated rather ignominiously from a post which it ought to have held. In order to insure the retaking of this position, Sir Neville Chamberlain, the commander of the force, placed himself at the head of the attacking column, and, rumour has it, turned round and said, "There must be no running away this time," on which the colonel of one regiment replied, "The ―th don't require to be told that, General." This portion of Afghanistan is scarcely even nominally under the sway of the Amir of Kaubul, and is virtually ruled by the Akoond of Swat, who is rather a spiritual than a temporal prince, but exercises a good deal of temporal power over the chiefs in his territory. He was ninety years old at the time of my visit to the Yusufzai, and had the reputation of being an extremely bigoted Mohammedan, not averse to stirring up a jehad against the infidels in India; and in this respect his son was said to be even Fortunately, worse than himself. however, we have a counter-check to him in the Mullah of Topi, within our own district, who exercises a great religious influence over the Afghans, and is a rival of the Akoond. I had made a good deal of acquaintance with Afghans before this journey, and must say a word in regard to their character. They are a very strange mixture of heroism and cowardice, fidelity and treachery, kindness and cruelty, magnanimity and meanness, high-sounding morality and unspeakably atrocious viciousness. Though their language affords no countenance to their own belief that they are sons of Israel, and the linguist scoffs at this supposition in his usual manner, I think there is something in it. In physical appearance and in character they resemble the Hebrews of history; and it is unscientific, in judging of the origin of a people, to place exclusive reliance on one particular, such as language. Much meditation over this subject has also convinced me that our modern writers are far too much given to drawing hard and fast lines when treating of ethnology. They get hold of a race or a nation somewhere in the past, and virtually, indeed often unconsciously, assume that it has become stereotyped for all time, leaving out of mind that circumstances similar to those which form a race are continually modifying its peculiarities. As to the Afghans, I deem it likely that there is some truth in all the theories which have been started as to their origin. They are probably partly Semitic, partly Aryan, partly Asiatic, and partly European. There is nothing improbable in the supposition that their Hebrew blood has been mingled with that of the soldiers of Alexander the Great and of the Greek colonists of the Græco- Bactrian kingdoms, and also of the Asiatic Albanians, who were driven across Persia. The Indo-Bactrians, again, may have modified the race; and this theory of a composite origin affords some explanation of the inconsistencies of the Afghan character. Afghan history is a dreadful story of cruelty, faithlessness, perfidy, and treachery. Though they may understand the matter among themselves, yet it is impossible for the European to draw any line within which the Patháns may be trusted. The tomb of Cain is said to be in Kaubul, and the popular belief is that the devil fell there when he was thrown out of heaven. These are the views of the Afghans themselves, and a double portion of the spirit of Cain seems to have descended upon them. In one small village through which I passed, there had been twelve secret assassinations within nine months. Among these people you have perpetually recurring reasons, in the shape of dead bodies, for putting the questions, "Who is she?" and "How much was it?" for their murders proceed usually from quarrels as to women, or land, or cattle. A good many of our officers on the frontier have been assassinated, sometimes out of mere wantonness, and they have to go about armed or guarded. The Afghan monarch Shah Mahmood owed his throne to his Wuzeer Futteh Khan (Barukzai), and the latter was always careful not to show any want of allegiance or respect for that sovereign; yet Shah Mahmood, at the instigation of a relative, had his Wuzeer seized, and put out both his benefactor's eyes in the year 1818. Then he had the unfortunate blind man brought before him bound, and had him deliberately cut to pieces nose, ears, lips, and then the joints. This is a characteristic Afghan incident, and not the less so that it was a ruinous act for the perpetrator. Sir Alexander Burnes, in his account of his journey to Bokhara (vol. ii. p. 124), says of the Afghans that, "if they themselves are to be believed, their ruling vice is envy, which besets even the nearest and dearest relations. No people are more capable of managing intrigue." And yet he adds, "I imbibed a very favourable impression of their national character." But this vice of envy is peculiarly the characteristic which marks off the lower from the higher portion of the human race; it has, not inappropriately, been assigned as the cause of angels turning into devils; and it is curious to find that a people like the Afghans, who are possessed by it, can still excite admiration. Mr T. P. Hughes, a well-known, able missionary on the border, who is intimately acquainted with these people, says that "the Afghans are a manly race, of sociable and lively habits. All Europeans who have come in contact with them have been favourably impressed with the very striking contrast exhibited by our trans-Indus subjects to the mild Hindú and the miserable Hindústhani and Panjabi Mohammedans." He also says that their "manly qualities are not unequal to our own," and that "there are elements of true greatness in the Afghan national character." Yet I was assured by more than one excellent authority that one of the most hideous of all vices is openly practised in Kaubul, where a bazaar or street is set apart for it; and that even in Peshawar the agents of the Church Mission require to be cautious in their conduct towards the boys under their tuition. It is the extraordinary union of virtues and vices which forms the most puzzling feature in the Afghan character. To courage, strength, and the other better features of a wild sentimental mountain people, they unite vices which are usually attributed to the decrepitude of corrupt civilisations and dying races; and though their fidelity is often able to overcome torture and death, it as often succumbs to the most trivial and meanest temptations. I am inclined to believe that much of the badness of the Afghans is owing to the influence of Mohammedanism. One might expect that so simple and intelligible a religion, holding the doctrine of the unity of God, and admitting Christ as one of its line of prophets, would be superior in its effects to polytheistic Hinduism, and especially to Brahmanism, the acceptance of which after and in face of Búdhism, involved a moral suicide on the part of the people of India. But certainly my knowledge of India does not support that conclusion. Among a purely Semitic race like the Arabs, secluded among their deserts and at a certain stereotyped stage of thought, Mohammedanism may be good, and it undoubtedly appears to have exercised a beneficial influence in its removal of ancient superstitions; but in the larger sphere and greater complications of modern life it becomes an evil influence, from its essentially Pharisaical character and its want of power to touch the human heart. I need not speak of Christianity or of Búdhism, with their enthusiasm of love and their doctrines of self-sacrifice but even in Brahmanism there are humanising influences; and in the older Hinduism, as Dr John Muir has so well shown by his metrical translations, the law of love finds an important place. It is not even the worst of Mohammedanism that it is a system of external observances and mechanical devotion. Its central idea, as elaborated to-day, is that of the Creator and Governor of the universe as a merciless tyrant, ruling after the caprice of a fathomless will, breaking the clay of humanity into two pieces, throwing the one to the right saying, "These into heaven, and I care not ;" and not;" the other to the left saying, "These into hell, and I care not." Whenever God is thus regarded as an arbitrary tyrant, instead of an allloving Father whose dealings with His children transcend our knowledge but do not revolt our moral consciousness, religion, or rather that which takes its place, becomes a frightful instrument of evil; and even when the natural working of the human heart is too strong to allow of its being carried out practically to its logical conclusions, on the other hand, it prevents our higher sympathies from being of much practical use. It is worthy of such a system that it should regard a few external observances, and the mere utterance of such a formula as, "There is no God but God, and Mohammed is His prophet," as insuring an entrance into heaven, and that its heaven should be one of purely sensual delight. I do not mean to say that Mohammed is responsible for all that Mohammedanism has become; for even in this case there has been manifested that curious tendency of religions to thrust forward and deify that which their founders began with repudiating and condemning; but he is in great part responsible, and of all famous books in the world, the Kurán is about the least edifying. Hardy, brave, mean, and wicked a people as the Afghans are, they are great lovers of poetry, and have produced not a little poetry of a high order. They are very fond, at night, round their camp-fires, of reciting verses, and these verses are usually of a melancholy kind, relating to love, war, the unsatisfactoriness of all earthly enjoyment, and the cruelty of fate. Captain H. G. Raverty has rendered a great service in presenting us with an almost literal translation of the productions of the more famous Afghan poets;* and these do not at all make the Afghan character more intelligible. When the women of a village ventured to come out to look at me, usually some man with a big stick drove them away with heavy blows, and remarks upon them which even a Rabelais would have hesitated to report; yet the Afghans have romantic ideas of love, and are fond of singing these beautiful lines :— "Say not unto me, 'Why swearest thou by me?' Thou, indeed, art the very light of mine eyes; In this world thou art my life and my soul, Thou art in truth the all-engrossing idea of my mind, The dust of thy feet is an ointment for the eyes- My heart ever yearneth toward thee exceedingly- When thou laughest, they are nothing in comparison, Truly I am thy lover, and thine, thine only- Of the despairing melancholy of the Afghan poets it would be easy to quote many instances; but I prefer to give the following example, also translated by Captain Raverty, by a chief of the clan Khattak, of their stirring war-songs: "From whence hath the spring again returned unto us, : There are the anemone and sweet basil, the lily, and the thyme; The wild flowers of spring are manifold, and of every hue; The maidens place nosegays of flowers in their bosoms; Come now, maidens, apply the bow to the violin ; And thou, cup-bearer, bring us full and overflowing cups, * Selections from the Poetry of the Afghans, from the sixteenth to the nineteenth century. Literally translated from the original Pushtao. London, 1862. The Afghan youths have again dyed red their hands, They have made rosy their bright swords with gore; Ae-mal Khan and Dar-ya Khan-from death preserve them!- They dyed red the valley of Khyber with the blood of the foe; From Karrapah, even unto Bajawar, both plain and mountain, One day's march from Hoti Mardán, or Murdan, I was handed over to the care of an escort of the Panjab Guides, a famous regiment which is usually quartered in that fort. Its officers showed great hospitality and kindness, and especially Captain Hutchinson, whom I had met at Hardwar, as also in Kashmir, and whose shooting expeditions had made him familiar with some of the remotest parts of the Himáliya and with the regions lying to the north of Kashmir. He had just returned from a journey into Gilgit, which he described as exceedingly barren and stony; and his quarters in the fort were adorned with many trophies of the chase, including quite a pile of the skins of the great snowbear. Elsewhere, I heard a story of an officer who, on getting leave after a long period of close service, went up and spent his leave at this little remote fort of Hoti Mardán, where he had formerly been stationed. That was adduced as a remarkable instance of English eccentricity; but I can quite appreciate the man's choice. The officers of a crack regiment in an isolated position make very good company; there is excellent sport of various kinds, including hawking, to be had at Mardán; there is just enough of personal danger connected with a residence there to keep one lively; interesting expeditions may be made along or across the frontier; the whole country round is full of important antiquities; and the climate during great part of the year is delightful. According to the regimental records of temperature for the year 1872, the thermometer (in the open air, but in a position sheltered from the sun), had, in the month of January, an extreme range from 27° to 64°, and a mean range from 46° to 52°. In February, the extreme range was from 32° to 732, and the mean from 48° to 52°. In April, the extreme range was 53° to 91°, and the mean 69° to 82°. The hottest month was June, when the extreme range was 70° to 109°, and the mean 92° to 100°. That sounds very dreadful; but the pure and excessively dry air of these regions does not make a temperature of 100° so intolerable as a temperature of 80° is in the moist regions of the coast, or during the rainy season, in those parts of India which are much exposed to the influence of the southwest monsoon. Evaporation of moisture from the skin and clothes is the great source of coolness in a hot country; and, of course, the drier the air is, the greater the evaporation and consequent coolness, while, the more the air is loaded with moisture, the less is the evaporation from our persons, and the more we become like furnaces surrounded by some non-heat-conducting substance. So early as Septem |