but let alone the far West." But as it had been decided that the work was to be done, he was vehement in his opinion that it should be done as thoroughly as possible. With a "fine old Tory" contempt of anything approaching to economy, he advised the employment of a regular British force, horse, foot, and artillery, with which there could be no possibility of a reverse, a contingency in the peculiar circumstances of the case to be guarded against with more than common care. There were, still nearer to the Viceroy's person, other and even warmer advocates of the same policy; so after some weeks of suspense and oscillation Lord Auckland yielded, and the fiat for the "Army of the Indus" went forth.

In August the regiments selected were warned for field service, and in September a General Order published the constitution of the force. It was to be divided into two columns, the Bengal column and the Bombay column. The former was to consist of a brigade of artillery under Colonel Graham; a brigade of cavalry under Colonel Arnold; and five brigades of infantry under Colonels Sale and Bennie, of Her Majesty's, and Colonels Nott, Roberts, and Worseley, of the Company's service. The latter were told off into two divisions under Sir Willoughby Cotton, an officer of Her Majesty's army, who had seen service in the Burmese war, and Major-General Duncan, of the Company's army. The whole was to be under the personal command of Sir Henry Fane himself. The Bombay column was to consist of a brigade of artillery under Colonel Stevenson; a brigade of cavalry under Major-General Thackwell; a brigade of infantry under Major-General Wiltshire; the whole to be under the command of Sir John Keane, Commander-in-chief of the Bombay army. The English regiments selected were, besides the artillery, in the Bengal column, the 16th Lancers and the 3rd and 13th Regiments of the Line; in the Bombay column, the 4th Dragoons and the 2nd and 17th Regiments of the Line. Besides these troops, Soojah's own levies were being actively raised on the other side of the Indus, under the supervision of Captain Wade, who found it no easy matter to quiet the Afghan's not unfounded fears lest he should come to be no more than a puppet in the hands of the English officers, and his restoration finally effected, not by his own arms, but by the English bayonets. Though the sympathies of the majority of our army were rather with Dost Mahomed than with Soojah, and it was far from clear to them on what pretext they were to invade the former's kingdom, the prospect of active employment after so many years of repose was popular with all classes of military men, and from every quarter of India officers, leaving without a murmur the luxurious ease of well-paid staff appointments, made haste to rejoin their regiments. Scarcely less important than the selection of the military commands was the selection of the envoys who were to accompany the different columns in a political capacity. Wade of course was to march with the Sikh force destined to escort Prince Timour through the Khyber Pass to his father's capital, but it was not so easy to determine on whom should devolve the delicate duty of directing the mind of Soojah himself, and shaping the political course of his operations. Sir Henry Fane not unreasonably wished that the entire control, political as well as military, should be vested in his own hands, and proposed to take Burnes with him as his confidential adviser. But Lord Auckland had other views, and, contrary to general expectation, his choice fell on Macnaghten, under whom Burnes, after a momentary, and not unnatural, fit of disgust, agreed to serve in a subordinate capacity, believing, in common with others, that Soojah once firmly seated on the throne, Macnaghten would return, and the chief control of affairs would then devolve upon him.

On October 1st the Declaration of War was issued. If our officers were doubtful before as to the right of their cause this document certainly tended but little to solve their doubts. Hardly, moreover, had the Simlah manifesto had time to penetrate through India when news arrived of the raising of the siege of Herat. As the deliverance of Herat, and Western Afghanistan generally, from Persian rule had formed, according to the proclamation, the principal object of the expedition, it was supposed that the English army would now be disbanded, and Soojah and Runjeet Singh left to their own devices. Even those of the authorities at home who had allowed that, while a Persian force was still at the gates of Herat, Lord Auckland could not do otherwise than prepare for its defence, were unanimously of opinion that the motive for the expedition had now ceased to exist. Among such authorities conspicuously appear the names of the Duke of Wellington, Lord Wellesley, Sir Charles Metcalfe, Mountstuart Elphinstone, and others of scarce less weight and experience. Lord Auckland and his advisers were not, however, of this number. The army was to be reduced in strength, it is true, since there was no longer any prospect of an encounter with Persia, or possibly with Russia, but the expedition was in no way to be abandoned. Instead of two divisions the Bengal column was to consist only of one; two brigades of infantry were to be left behind; and the cavalry and artillery were to be proportionately reduced. Nor was Sir Henry Fane inclined to retain the command of a force whose numbers were so diminished, and whose probabilities of action were so limited. The Bengal column was therefore placed in the hands of Sir Willoughby Cotton, and on its junction with the column from Bombay the chief command was to fall to Sir John Keane, who led the latter force.

All things were now ready, but before the army broke ground a grand ceremony was to take place, a ceremony which had indeed been arranged before any note of war had been sounded. On November 29th Lord Auckland and Runjeet Singh met at Ferozepore. It was a magnificent pageant. The Viceroy's camp was pitched about four miles from the river Gharra. The English army lay on the plain, a noble force, in perfect order and condition, and brought together, according to Havelock, in a manner that had never before been equalled. Escorted by the principal military and political English officers, Runjeet Singh rode up on his elephant through a splendid guard of honour, amid the thunder of artillery and the clash of innumerable bands, to the Durbar tent. Lord Auckland and Sir Henry Fane rode out to meet him, and as the two cavalcades joined such was the crush and uproar that many of the Sikh chiefs, thinking there was some design afoot on their prince, began "to blow their matches and grasp their weapons with a mingled air of distrust and ferocity." With some difficulty a passage was cleared, and the little decrepit old man, supported by the Viceroy and the Commander-in-chief, entered the tent where the costly presents prepared for him were laid out. Ordnance of British make, horses and elephants magnificently caparisoned, were all inspected and admired, and, while a royal salute thundered without, the prince bowed low before a picture of Queen Victoria, borne into his presence by Sir Willoughby Cotton. As the infirm old chief was being conducted round the tent he stumbled and fell to the ground at the very muzzle of one of the British guns. A murmur of horror arose from his Sirdars at so dire an omen, but as the Viceroy and Sir Henry Fane hastened to raise him to his feet, their hearts were comforted by the reflection that though their chief had fallen before the British guns, the highest representatives of the British Queen had raised him again to his feet.

On the following day the visit was returned amid a scene of still greater splendour and variety. According to