hrinking from any act of cruelty to extort
it, moderate taxes, much lower than those imposed by the
feudatory princes; arbitrary rule replaced by even-handed
justice; the tribunals, once proverbially corrupt, by
upright judges whose example is already beginning to make
its influence felt on native morality and notions of right;
no more Pindarris, no more armed bands of thieves; perfect
security in the cities as well as in the country districts,
and on all the roads; the former bloodthirsty manners and
customs now softened, and, save for certain restrictions
imposed in the interests of public morality, a scrupulous
regard for religious worship, and traditional usages and
customs; materially, an unexampled bound of prosperity, and
even the disastrous effects of the periodical famines, which
afflict certain parts of the peninsula, more and more
diminished by the extension of railways which facilitate the
work of relief. And what has wrought all these miracles? The
wisdom and the courage of a few directing statesmen, the
bravery and the discipline of an army composed of a small
number of Englishmen and a large number of natives, led by
heroes; and lastly, and I will venture to say principally,
the devotion, the intelligence, the courage, the
perseverance, and the skill, combined with an integrity
proof against all temptation, of a handful of officials and
magistrates who govern and administer the Indian Empire.'

Such is the testimony of an Austrian. It ought to bring a flush of shame
to the faces of not a few Englishmen.

We have scarcely alluded to the lighter parts of Baron Huebner's
volumes--to the excellent touches of description or sketches of
character which enliven his pages, or to the numerous pleasantly-told
anecdotes of personal adventure. One of these anecdotes is worth
repeating, though the author must pardon us if we tell it in our own
way. It is too characteristic of life in New York--too full of valuable
hints for future travellers--to be lost sight of.

It appears that on his last morning in New York, the Baron found that
his note-book had been taken from his room in the hotel. His servant and
his baggage had already gone on to the steamer, and the Baron prepared
to follow. First, however, as he still had two hours to spare, he
thought he would take a final glimpse of Fifth Avenue. The