expected to yield a passive obedience. "Supposing," he continued, "we were to aid Dost Mahomed to overthrow in the first place his brother at Candahar, and then his Suddozye rival at Herat, what would be the consequence? As the system of which it is intended to be a part would go to gratify the longing wish of Mahomed Shah for the annexation of Herat to his dominions, the first results would be that the Shah-Zadah Kamran would apply to Persia, and offer, on the condition of her assistance to save him from the fate which impended over his head, to submit to all the demands of that General, which Kamran has hitherto so resolutely and successfully resisted, and between his fears and the attempts of Dost Mahomed to take it, Herat, which is regarded by everyone who has studied its situation as the key to Afghanistan, would inevitably fall prostrate before the arms of Persia, by the effect of the very measures which we had designed for its security from Persian thraldom." That it was our interest to maintain the independence of Herat was obvious, so long as Herat was able to remain in the position it was then assuming, that of a barrier against Russo-Persian invasion. Prince Kamran was, in fact, then playing our game as well as we could have played it ourselves. But the question was, how long would Herat be able to retain its independence? The fall of Herat meant the fall of Candahar, and the absorption of all Southern and Western Afghanistan into a Persian province, and a Persian province was then but another name for a Russian province. Could it have been possible, and that McNeill thought it possible was a strong argument in its favour, to consolidate the various states under one ruler strong enough to retain the reins when once placed in his hands, Herat and Candahar would have been secured for ever, and there would have arisen in a united Afghanistan a perpetual barrier to Russian ambition. Had we come to terms with Dost Mahomed, in all human probability we should not have had to chastise the insolence of his son. Burnes for his part still championed the cause of the Ameer, urging that it was not yet too late to secure his friendship, that, despite all that had taken place, he still wanted only the smallest encouragement to range himself on our side, and that as whatever action was taken could not be taken save at some cost, the money could not be better spent than on Dost Mahomed. But when Burnes's opinion was asked, the Government had already decided on their policy, and as Dost Mahomed was to go, he was only asked to pronounce on the expediency of choosing Soojah as his successor. It seemed to him that McNeill's plan, of which he was a staunch advocate, would be better served by restoring Soojah to his crown than by giving it to Sultan Mahomed or any other of the chiefs, who would probably be but a tool in the hands of the Sikhs, themselves objects of bitter hatred to the Afghans. As the Government, then, were committed to one of two evils, Burnes gave his vote in favour of that which seemed to him the least, and which he, in common with the rest of the Council, believed could be accomplished with little danger and at comparatively little expense.

Lord Auckland's first idea was that the deposition of Dost Mahomed should be effected by the combined forces of Runjeet Singh and Soojah, raised and drilled under British supervision, and assisted by British gold—in Kaye's words, "England was to remain in the background, jingling the money-bag." Such were the first instructions issued to the Mission sent in May, 1838, to sound Runjeet Singh on the design, but scarcely had they been written when the thought of employing British troops seems first to have dawned in, or been introduced into Lord Auckland's mind. He would have preferred that the two Princes should undertake the work on their own account, while he contributed merely his countenance and perhaps some money, but he was very doubtful whether the Princes would see the matter in the same light. Macnaghten, the leader of the mission, was instructed therefore to suggest the first course to Runjeet Singh, and should he view that with disfavour, to hold out the possibility of some sort of "demonstration" being undertaken by British troops from some convenient point. The event proved that Lord Auckland's doubts were just. The Sikh Prince heard the proposal for restoring Soojah with pleasure, and at once gave his consent to the plan; but when Macnaghten, cautiously feeling his way, hinted that an army of Sikhs, together with such a force as Soojah could raise with British help, would be amply sufficient, the crafty old man stopped him with an emphatic refusal. That England should become a third party to the treaty already existing between him and Soojah was, in his own phrase "adding sugar to milk;" he was willing, moreover, himself to play such a part as England might deem necessary; but with the independent expedition he would have nothing to do. Macnaghten therefore at once returned to his original proposal, and after a good deal of fencing and delay on Bunjeet Singh's part, the treaty was concluded. From Soojah, of course, little difficulty was to be anticipated, but he, unlike Runjeet Singh, though willing to employ British gold and British skill in equipping and disciplining the forces he declared his ability at once to bring to his standard, was by no means anxious to see a British force in the field with him. He was doubtful what effect such an apparition in their strongholds might have upon his countrymen, nor was he at all desirous to appear as owing his throne to British bayonets. He proposed that his own force should proceed by way of the Bolan Pass on Candahar and Ghuznee, while the Sikhs, with whom should go his son Timour, should march on the capital through the Khyber and Koord-Cabul defiles. Already, he said, had he received offers of allegiance from numerous chiefs discontented with the Barukzye rule, and offended at Dost Mahomed's alliance with the Persians, prominent among whom appeared, strangely enough, the name of Abdoolah Khan, destined to become the prime mover in the insurrection which ultimately cost Soojah his life, and restored the Barukzye dynasty. "The faggots," they wrote, "are ready; it only requires the lighted torch to be applied." Soojah therefore was urgent with Macnaghten that he should be allowed to accomplish his restoration with his own troops, as he expressed himself confident of doing; a feat which would greatly tend to raise his character among his countrymen, while the fact of his being "upheld by foreign force alone could not fail to detract in a great measure from his dignity and consequence." Soojah's wishes, in fact, tallied precisely with Lord Auckland's original design, but every day brought fresh complications, with fresh confirmation of the impracticability of that design. First Soojah and Runjeet Singh alone were to be the agents; then a British force was to "demonstrate" in reserve at Shikarpoor; next a few British regiments were to be added to Soojah's levies. Finally, all these plans were dismissed, and one wholly different to any Lord Auckland had hitherto dreamed of was substituted in their stead.

Sir Henry Fane, Commander-in-chief of the British army in India, was then at Simlah, with Lord Auckland. That he had from the first disapproved of English interference with Afghan politics the following passage from his correspondence with Sir Charles Metcalfe, written in 1837, sufficiently proves. "Every advance you might make beyond the Sutlej to the westward, in my opinion, adds to your military weakness ... if you want your empire to expand, expand it over Oude or over Gwalior and the remains of the Mahratta Empire. Make yourselves complete sovereigns of all within your bounds,