Clive rose.  As to his estate, he said, he would make such propositions to the Directors, as would, he trusted, lead to an amicable settlement.  But there was a still greater difficulty.  It was proper to tell them that he never would undertake the government of Bengal while his enemy Sulivan was chairman of the Company.  The tumult was violent.  Sulivan could scarcely obtain a hearing.  An overwhelming majority of the assembly was on Clive’s side.  Sulivan wished to try the result of a ballot.  But, according to the bye-laws of the Company, there can be no ballot except on a requisition signed by nine proprietors; and, though hundreds were present, nine persons could not be found to set their hands to such a requisition.

Clive was in consequence nominated Governor and Commander-in-chief of the British possessions in Bengal.  But he adhered to his declaration, and refused to enter on his office till the event of the next election of Directors should be known.  The contest was obstinate; but Clive triumphed.  Sulivan, lately absolute master of the India House, was within a vote of losing his own seat; and both the chairman and the deputy-chairman were friends of the new governor.

Such were the circumstances under which Lord Clive sailed for the third and last time to India.  In May 1765, he reached Calcutta; and he found the whole machine of government even more fearfully disorganised than he had anticipated.  Meer Jaffier, who had some time before lost his eldest son Meeran, had died while Clive was on his voyage out.  The English functionaries at Calcutta had already received from home strict orders not to accept presents from the native princes.  But, eager for gain, and unaccustomed to respect the commands of their distant, ignorant, and negligent masters, they again set up the throne of Bengal to sale.  About one hundred and forty thousand pounds sterling was distributed among nine of the most powerful servants of the Company; and, in consideration of this bribe, an infant son of the deceased Nabob was placed on the seat of his father.  The news of the ignominious bargain met Clive on his arrival.  In a private letter, written immediately after his landing, to an intimate friend, he poured out his feelings in language, which, proceeding from a man so daring, so resolute, and so little given to theatrical display of sentiment, seems to us singularly touching.  “Alas!” he says, “how is the English name sunk!  I could not avoid paying the tribute of a few tears to the departed and lost fame of the British nation—­ irrecoverably so, I fear.  However, I do declare, by that great Being who is the searcher of all hearts, and to whom we must be accountable if there be a hereafter, that I am come out with a mind superior to all corruption, and that I am determined to destroy these great and growing evils, or perish in the attempt.”