It seemed likely at this time that a general reconciliation would put an end to the quarrels which had, during some years, weakened and disgraced the Government of Bengal.  The dangers of the empire might well induce men of patriotic feeling—­and of patriotic feeling neither Hastings nor Francis was destitute—­to forget private enmities, and to co-operate heartily for the general good.  Coote had never been concerned in faction.  Wheler was thoroughly tired of it.  Barwell had made an ample fortune, and, though he had promised that he would not leave Calcutta while his help was needed in Council, was most desirous to return to England, and exerted himself to promote an arrangement which would set him at liberty.

A compact was made, by which Francis agreed to desist from opposition, and Hastings engaged that the friends of Francis should be admitted to a fair share of the honours and emoluments of the service.  During a few months after this treaty there was apparent harmony at the council-board.

Harmony, indeed, was never more necessary:  for at this moment internal calamities, more formidable than war itself menaced Bengal.  The authors of the Regulating Act Of 1773 had established two independent powers, the one judicial, and the other political; and, with a carelessness scandalously common in English legislation, had omitted to define the limits of either.  The judges took advantage of the indistinctness, and attempted to draw to themselves supreme authority, not only within Calcutta. but through the whole of the great territory subject to the Presidency of Fort William.  There are few Englishmen who will not admit that the English law, in spite of modern improvements, is neither so cheap nor so speedy as might be wished.  Still, it is a system which has grown up among us.  In some points it has been fashioned to suit our feelings; in others, it has gradually fashioned our feelings to suit itself.  Even to its worst evils we are accustomed; and therefore, though we may complain of them, they do not strike us with the horror and dismay which would be produced by a new grievance of smaller severity.  In India the case is widely different.  English law, transplanted to that country, has all the vices from which we suffer here; it has them all in a far higher degree; and it has other vices, compared with which the worst vices from which we suffer are trifles.  Dilatory here, it is far more dilatory in a land where the help of an interpreter is needed by every judge and by every advocate.  Costly here, it is far more costly in a land into which the legal practitioners must be imported from an immense distance.  All English labour in India, from the labour of the Governor-General and the Commander-in-Chief, down to that of a groom or a watchmaker, must be paid for at a higher rate than at home.  No man will be banished, and banished to the torrid zone, for nothing.  The rule holds good with respect to the legal profession.  No English barrister will work,