thoroughness and passionate love of truth which was the distinguishing feature of his character throughout life.  That he succeeded in a manner which has been surpassed by none, and only faintly rivalled by a very few, is now generally recognised both by his own countrymen and also—­which is far more remarkable—­by the inhabitants of the country which formed the subject of his study.  So far as it is possible for any Western to achieve that very difficult task, he may be said to have got to the back of the Oriental mind.  He embodied the results of his long experience at times in sweeping and profound generalisations, which covered the whole field of Oriental thought and action, and at others in pithy epigrammatic sayings in which the racy humour, sometimes tinged with a shade of cynical irony, never obscured the deep feeling of sympathy he entertained for everything that was worthy of respect and admiration.

Lyall had read history to some purpose.  He knew, in the words which Gregorovius applied to the rule of Theodosius in Italy, that “not even the wisest and most humane of princes, if he be an alien in race, in customs and religion, can ever win the hearts of the people.”  He had read De Tocqueville, and from the pages of an author whose habit of thought must have been most congenial to him, he drew the conclusion that “it was the increased prosperity and enlightenment of the French people which produced the grand crash.”  He therefore thought that “the wildest, as well as the shallowest notion of all is that universally prevalent belief that education, civilisation and increased material prosperity will reconcile the people of India eventually to our rule.”  Hence he was prepared to accept—­perhaps rather more entirely than it deserved to be accepted—­the statement of that very astute Brahmin, Sir Dinkur Rao, himself the minister of an important native State, that “the natives prefer a bad native Government to our best patent institutions.”  These, and similar oracular statements, have now become the commonplaces of all who deal with questions affecting India.  That there is much truth in them cannot be gainsaid, but they are still often too much ignored by one section of the British public, who, carried away by home-made sentiment, forget that of all national virtues gratitude for favours received is the most rare, while by another section they are applied to the advocacy of a degree of autonomous rule which would be disastrous to the interests, not only of India itself, but also to the cause of all real civilised progress.

The point, however, on which in conversation Lyall was wont to insist most strongly was that the West was almost incomprehensible to the East, and, vice versa, that the Western could never thoroughly understand the Oriental.  In point of fact, when we talk of progress, it is necessary to fix some standard by which progress may be measured.  We know our Western standard; we endeavour to enforce it; and we