The fact that their dominions were acquired by force of arms exerted an

enduring effect upon the Roman Empire and continues to exert it upon the

British in imprinting upon their rule in India a permanently military

character. The Roman administration began with this character, and never

lost it, at least in the frontier provinces. The governors were

pro-consuls or propraetors, or other officials[5] entrusted with the

exercise of an authority in its origin military rather than civil. A

governor’s first duty was to command the troops stationed in the

province. The camps grew into towns, and that which had been a group of

_canabae_ or market stalls, a sort of bazaar for the service of the

camp, sometimes became a municipality. One of the most efficient means

of unifying the Empire was found in the bringing of soldiers born in one

part of it to be quartered for many years together in another. Military

distinction was open to every subject, and military distinction might

lead to the imperial throne. So the English in India are primarily

soldiers. True it is that they went to India three centuries ago as

traders, that it was out of a trading company that their power arose,

and that this trading company did not disappear till 1858. The

covenanted civil service, to which Clive for instance belonged, began as

a body of commercial clerks. Nothing sounds more pacific. But the men of

the sword very soon began to eclipse the men of the quill and account

book. Being in the majority, they do so still, although for forty years

there have been none but petty frontier wars. Society is not in India,

as it is in England, an ordinary civil society occupied with the works

and arts of peace, with an extremely small military element. It is

military society, military first and foremost, though with an infusion

of civilian officials, and in some towns with a small infusion of

lawyers and merchants, as well as a still smaller infusion of

missionaries. Military questions occupy every one’s thoughts and talk. A

great deal of administrative or diplomatic work is done, and often

extremely well done, by officers in civil employment. Many of the

railways are primarily strategic lines, as were the Roman roads. The

railway stations are often placed, for military reasons, at a distance

from the towns they serve: and the cantonments where the Europeans,

civilians as well as soldiers, reside, usually built some way off from

the native cities, have themselves, as happened in the Roman Empire,

grown into regular towns. The traveller from peaceful England feels

himself, except perhaps in Bombay, surrounded by an atmosphere of

gunpowder all the time he stays in India.

Before we pass from the military aspects of the comparison let it be

noted that both Empires have been favoured in their extension and their

maintenance by the frontiers which Nature had provided. The Romans, when

once they had conquered Numidia, Spain, and Gaul, had the ocean and

nothing but the ocean (save for the insignificant exception of barbarous

Mauretania) to the west and north-west of them, an awesome and

untravelled ocean, from whose unknown further shore no enemy could

appear. To the south they were defended by the equally impassable

barrier of a torrid and waterless desert, stretching from the Nile to

the Atlantic. It was only on the north and east that there were

frontiers to be defended; and these two sides remained the quarters of

danger, because no natural barrier, arresting the progress of armies or

constituting a defensible frontier, could be found without pushing all

the way to the Baltic in one direction or to the ranges of Southern

Kurdistan, perhaps even to the deserts of Eastern Persia in the other.

The north and the east ultimately destroyed Rome. The north sent in

those Teutonic tribes which occupied the western provinces and at last

Italy herself, and those Slavonic tribes which settled between the

Danube, the Aegean, and the Adriatic, and permeated the older population

of the Hellenic lands. Perhaps the Emperors would have done better for

the Empire (whatever might have been the ultimate loss to mankind) if,

instead of allowing themselves to be disheartened by the defeat of

Varus, they had pushed their conquests all the way to the Baltic and the

Vistula, and turned the peoples of North and Middle Germany into

provincial Romans. The undertaking would not have been beyond the

resources of the Empire in its vigorous prime, and would have been

remunerative, if not in money, at any rate in the way of providing a

supply of fighting-men for the army. So too the Emperors might possibly

have saved much suffering to their Romanized subjects in South Britain

had they followed up the expedition of Agricola and subdued the peoples

of Caledonia and Ierne, who afterwards became disagreeable as Picts and

Scots. The east was the home of the Parthians, of the Persians, so

formidable to the Byzantine Emperors in the days of Kobad and Chosroes

Anushirwan, and of the tribes which in the seventh and eighth centuries,

fired by the enthusiasm of a new faith and by the prospect of booty,

overthrew the Roman armies and turned Egypt, Syria, Africa, Spain, and

ultimately the greater part of Asia Minor into Muhamadan kingdoms. Had

Rome been menaced on the south and west as she was generally menaced on

the east and sometimes on the north, her Empire could hardly have lived

so long. Had she possessed a natural barrier on the east like that which

the Sahara provided on the south she might have found it easy to resist,

and not so very hard even to subjugate, the fighting races of the north.

Far more fortunate has been the position of the English in India. No

other of the great countries of the world is protected by such a

stupendous line of natural entrenchments as India possesses in the chain

of the Himalayas from Attock and Peshawur in the west to the point

where, in the far east, the Tsanpo emerges from Tibet to become in Upper

Assam the Brahmaputra. Not only is this mountain mass the loftiest and

most impassable to be found anywhere on our earth; it is backed by a

wide stretch of high and barren country, so thinly peopled as to be

incapable of constituting a menace to those who live in the plains south

of the Himalayas. And in point of fact the relations, commercial as well

as political, of India with Tibet, and with the Chinese who are

suzerains of Tibet, have been, at least in historical times, extremely

scanty. On the east, India is divided from the Indo-Chinese peoples,

Talains, Burmese and Shans, by a belt of almost impenetrable hill and

forest country: nor have these peoples ever been formidable neighbours.

It is only at its north-western angle, between Peshawur and Quetta (for

south of Quetta as far as the Arabian Sea there are deserts behind the

mountains and the Indus) that India is vulnerable. The rest of the

country is protected by a wide ocean. Accordingly the masters of India

have had only two sets of foes to fear; European maritime powers who may

arrive by sea after a voyage which, until our own time, was a voyage of

three or four months, and land powers who, coming from the side of

Turkistan or Persia, may find their way, as did Alexander the Great and

Nadir Shah, through difficult passes into the plains of the Punjab and

Sindh. This singular natural isolation of India, as it facilitated the

English conquest by preventing the native princes from forming alliances

with or obtaining help from powers beyond the mountains or the sea, so

has it also enabled the English to maintain their hold with an army

extraordinarily small in proportion to the population of the country.

The total strength of the Roman military establishment in the days of

Trajan, was for an area of some two and a half millions of square miles

and population of possibly one hundred millions, between 280,000 and

320,000 men. Probably four-fifths of this force was stationed on the

Rhine, the Danube, and the Euphrates. There were so few in most of the

inner provinces that, as some one said, the nations wondered where were

the troops that kept them in subjection.

The peace or ‘established’ strength of the British army in India is

nearly 230,000 men, of whom about 156,000 are natives and 74,000

Englishmen. To these there may be added the so-called ‘active reserve’

of natives who have served with the colours, about 17,000 men, and about

30,000 European volunteers. Besides these there are of course the troops

of the native princes, estimated at about 350,000 men, many of them,

however, far from effective. But as these troops, though a source of

strength while their masters are loyal, might under altered

circumstances be conceivably a source of danger, they can hardly be

reckoned as part of the total force disposable by the British

Government. Recently, however, about 20,000 of them have been organized

as special contingents of the British army, inspected and advised by

British officers, and fit to take their place with regiments of the

line.

It would obviously be impossible to defend such widely extended

dominions by a force of only 230,000 or 250,000 men, but for the

remoteness of all possibly dangerous assailants. The only formidable

land neighbour is Russia, the nearest point of whose territories in the

Pamirs is a good long way from the present British outposts, with a very

difficult country between. The next nearest is France on the Mekong

River, some 200 miles from British Burma, though a shorter distance from

Native States under British influence. As for sea powers, not only is

Europe a long way off, but the navy of Britain holds the sea. It was by

her command of the sea that Britain won India. Were she to cease to hold

it, her position there would be insecure indeed.

In another respect also the sharp severance of India from all the

surrounding countries may be deemed to have proved a benefit to the

English. It has relieved them largely if not altogether from the

temptation to go on perpetually extending their borders by annexing

contiguous territory. When they had reached the natural boundaries of

the Himalayas and the ranges of Afghanistan, they stopped. Beyond these

lie rugged and unprofitable highlands, and still more unprofitable

wildernesses. In two regions only was an advance possible: and in those

two regions they have yielded to temptation. They have crossed the

southern part of the Soliman mountains into Baluchistan in search for a

more ‘scientific’ frontier, halting for the present on the Amram range,

north-west of Quetta, where from the Khojak heights the eye, ranging

over a dark-brown arid plain, descries seventy miles away the rocks that

hang over Kandahar. They moved on from Arakhan and Tenasserim into Lower

Burma, whence in 1885 they conquered Upper Burma and proclaimed their

suzerainty over some of the Shan principalities lying further to the

east. But for the presence of France in these regions, which makes them

desire to keep Siam in existence as a so-called ‘Buffer State,’ manifest

destiny might probably lead them ultimately eastward across the Menam

and Mekong to Annam and Cochin China.

The Romans too sought for a scientific frontier, and hesitated often as

to the line they should select, sometimes pushing boldly eastward beyond

the Rhine and the Euphrates, sometimes receding to those rivers. Not

till the time of Hadrian did they create a regular system of frontier

defence, strengthened at many points by fortifications, among which the

forts that lie along the Roman Wall from the Tyne to the Solway are

perhaps the best preserved. So the English wavered for a time between

the line of the Indus and that of the Soliman range; so in the wild

mountain region beyond Kashmir they have, within the last few years,

alternately occupied and retired from the remote outpost of Chitral. It

has been their good fortune to have been obliged to fortify a

comparatively small number of points, and all of these are on the

north-west frontier.

There have been those who would urge them to occupy Afghanistan and

entrench themselves therein to resist a possible Russian invasion. But

for the present wiser counsels have prevailed. Afghanistan is a more

effective barrier in the hands of its own fierce tribes than it would be

as a part of British territory. A parallel may be drawn between the part

it has played of late years and that which Armenia played in the ancient

world from the days of Augustus to those of Heraclius. Both countries

had been the seats of short-lived Empires, Armenia in the days of

Tigranes, Afghanistan in those of Ahmed Shah. Both are wild and rugged

regions, the dwelling-places of warlike races. Christian Armenia was

hostile from religious sentiment to the enemies whom Rome had to fear,

the Persian Fire-worshippers. Musulman Afghanistan dreads the power of

Christian Russia. But the loyalty or friendship of the Armenian princes

was not always proof against the threats of the formidable Sassanids,

and the action of the Afghans is an element of uncertainty and anxiety

to the British rulers of India.

To make forces so small as those on which Rome relied and those which

now defend British India adequate for the work they have to do, good

means of communication are indispensable. It was one of the first tasks

of the Romans to establish such means. They were the great—indeed one

may say, the only—road builders of antiquity. They began this policy

before they had completed the conquest of Italy; and it was one of the

devices which assured their supremacy throughout the peninsula. They

followed it out in Gaul, Spain, Africa, Britain, and the East, doing

their work so thoroughly that in Britain some of the roads continued to

be the chief avenues of travel down till the eighteenth century. So the

English have been in India a great engineering people, constructing

lines of communication, first roads and afterwards railways, on a scale

of expenditure unknown to earlier ages. The potentates of elder days,

Hindu rajahs, and subsequently Pathans and Moguls, with other less

famous Musulman dynasties, have left their memorials in temples and

mosques, in palaces and tombs. The English are commemorating their sway

by railway works, by tunnels and cuttings, by embankments and bridges.

If India were to relapse into barbarism the bridges, being mostly of

iron, would after a while perish, and the embankments would in time be

swept away by torrential rains, but the rock-cuttings and the tunnels

would remain, as the indestructible paving-stones of the Roman roads,

and majestic bridges, like the Pont du Gard in Languedoc, remain to

witness to the skill and thoroughness with which a great race did its

work.

The opening up of India by railroads suggests not a few interesting

questions which, however, I can do no more than indicate here. Railroad

construction has imposed upon the Indian exchequer a strain all the

heavier because some lines, especially those on the north-west frontier,

having been undertaken from strategic rather than commercial motives,

will yield no revenue at all proportionate to their cost. It has been

suggested that although railroads were meant to benefit the peasantry,

they may possibly have increased the risk of famine, since they induce

the producer to export the grain which was formerly locally stored up in

good years to meet the scarcity of bad years. The comparative quickness

with which food can be carried by rail into a famine area does not—so it

is argued—compensate for the loss of these domestic reserves. Railways,

bringing the numerous races that inhabit India into a closer touch with

one another than was possible before, are breaking down, slowly but

surely, the demarcations of caste, and are tending towards an

assimilation of the jarring elements, racial and linguistic, as well as

religious, which have divided India into a number of distinct, and in

many cases hostile, groups. Centuries may elapse before this

assimilation can become a source of political danger to the rulers of

the country: yet we discern the beginnings of the process now,

especially in the more educated class. The Roman roads, being highways

of commerce as well as of war, contributed powerfully to draw together

the peoples whom Rome ruled into one imperial nationality. But this was

a process which, as we shall presently note, was for Rome an unmixed

gain, since it strengthened the cohesion of an Empire whose inhabitants

had every motive for loyalty to the imperial Government, if not always

to the particular sovereign. The best efforts of Britain may not succeed

in obtaining a similar attachment from her Indian subjects, and their

union into a body animated by one national sentiment might become an

element of danger against which she has never yet been required to take

precautions.

The excellence of the highways of communication provided by the wise

energy of the Romans and of the English has contributed not only to the

easier defence of the frontiers of both Empires, but also to the

maintenance of a wonderfully high standard of internal peace and order.

Let any one think of the general state of the ancient world before the

conquests of Rome, and let him then think of the condition not merely of

India after the death of the Emperor Aurungzeb, but of the chief

European countries as they stood in the seventeenth century, if he

wishes to appreciate what Rome did for her subjects, or what England has

done in India. In some parts of Europe private war still went on two

hundred and fifty years ago. Almost everywhere robber bands made

travelling dangerous and levied tribute upon the peasantry. Even in the

eighteenth century, and even within our own islands, Rob Roy raided the

farmers of Lennox, and landlords in Connaught fought pitched battles

with one another at the head of their retainers. Even a century ago the

coasts of the Mediterranean were ravaged by Barbary pirates, and

brigandage reigned unchecked through large districts of Italy. But in

the best days of the Roman Empire piracy was unknown; the peasantry were

exempt from all exactions except those of the tax-gatherer; and the

great roads were practically safe for travellers. Southern and western

Europe, taken as a whole, would seem to have enjoyed better order under

Hadrian and the Antonines than was enjoyed again until nearly our own

times. This was the more remarkable because the existence of slavery

must have let loose upon society, in the form of runaway slaves, a good

many dangerous characters. Moreover, there remained some mountainous

regions where the tribes had been left practically to themselves under

their own rude customs. These enclaves of barbarism within civilized

territory, such as was Albania, in the central mountain knot of which no

traces of Roman building have been found, and the Isaurian country in

Asia Minor, and possibly the Cantabrian land on the borders of

south-western Gaul and northern Spain, where the Basque tongue still

survives, do not appear to have seriously interfered with the peace and

well-being of the settled population which dwelt around them, probably

because the mountaineers knew that it was only by good behaviour that

they could obtain permission to enjoy the measure of independence that

had been left to them. The parts of provincial Africa which lay near the

desert were less orderly, because it was not easy to get behind the wild

tribes who had the Sahara at their back.

The internal peace of the Roman Empire was, however, less perfect than

that which has been established within the last sixty years in India.

Nothing surprises the visitor from Europe so much as the absolute

confidence with which he finds himself travelling unprotected across

this vast country, through mountains and jungles, among half savage

tribes whose languages he does not know, and that without seeing, save

at rare intervals, any sign of European administration. Nor is this

confined to British India. It is almost the same in Native States. Even

along the lofty forest and mountain frontier that separates the native

(protected) principality of Sikkim from Nepal—the only really

independent Indian State—an Englishman may journey unarmed and alone,

except for a couple of native attendants, for a week or more. When he

asks his friends at Darjiling, before he starts, whether he ought to

take a revolver with him, they smile at the question. There is not so

complete a security for native travellers, especially in native States,

for here and there bands of brigands called Dacoits infest the tracks,

and rob, sometimes the wayfarer, sometimes the peasant, escaping into

the recesses of the jungle when the police are after them. But dacoity,

though it occasionally breaks out afresh in a few districts, has become

much less frequent than formerly. The practice of Thuggi which seventy

years ago still caused many murders, has been extirpated by the

unceasing energy of British officers. Crimes of violence show a

percentage to the population which appears small when one considers how

many wild tribes remain. The native of course suffers from violence more

frequently than does the European, whose prestige of race, backed by the

belief that punishment will surely follow on any injury done to him,

keeps him safe in the wildest districts[6].

-----

Footnote 6:

An incident like the murder in 1889 of the British Resident at

Manipur, a small Protected State in the hill country between Assam and

Burma, is so rare and excites so much surprise and horror as to be the

best proof of the general tranquillity. In that case there had been

some provocation, though not on the part of the Resident himself, an

excellent man of conciliatory temper.

-----

I have referred to the enclaves within the area of the Roman Empire

where rude peoples were allowed to live after their own fashion so long

as they did not disturb the peace of their more civilized neighbours.

One finds the Indian parallel to these districts, not so much in the

Native States, for these are often as advanced in the arts of life, and,

in a very few instances, almost as well administered, as British

territory, but rather in the hill tribes, which in parts of central, of

north-western, and of southern India, have retained their savage or

semi-savage customs, under their own chiefs, within the provinces

directly subject to the Crown. These tribes, as did the Albanians and

Basques, cleave to their primitive languages, and cleave also to their

primitive forms of ghost-worship or nature-worship, though Hinduism is

beginning to lay upon them its tenacious grasp. Of one another’s lives

and property they are not very careful. But they are awed by the

European and leave him unmolested.

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