In taking these strong measures, Hastings scarcely showed his usual judgment.  It is possible that, having had little opportunity of personally observing any part of the population of India, except the Bengalees, he was not fully aware of the difference between their character and that of the tribes which inhabit the upper provinces.  He was now in a land far more favourable to the vigour of the human frame than the Delta of the Ganges; in a land fruitful of soldiers, who have been found worthy to follow English battalions to the charge and into the breach.  The Rajah was popular among his subjects.  His administration had been mild; and the prosperity of the district which he governed presented a striking contrast to the depressed state of Bahar under our rule, and a still more striking contrast to the misery of the provinces which were cursed by the tyranny of the Nabob Vizier.  The national and religious prejudices with which the English were regarded throughout India were peculiarly intense in the metropolis of the Brahminical superstition.  It can therefore scarcely he doubted that the Governor-General, before he outraged the dignity of Cheyte Sing by an arrest, ought to have assembled a force capable of bearing down all opposition.  This had not been done.  The handful of sepoys who attended Hastings would probably have been sufficient to overawe Moorshedabad, or the Black Town of Calcutta.  But they were unequal to a conflict with the hardy rabble of Benares.  The streets surrounding the palace were filled by an immense multitude, of whom a large proportion, as is usual in Upper India, wore arms.  The tumult became a fight, and the fight a massacre.  The English officers defended themselves with desperate courage against overwhelming numbers, and fell, as became them, sword in hand.  The sepoys were butchered.  The gates were forced.  The captive prince, neglected by his gaolers, during the confusion, discovered an outlet which opened on the precipitous bank of the Ganges, let himself down to the water by a string made of the turbans of his attendants, found a boat, and escaped to the opposite shore.

If Hastings had, by indiscreet violence, brought himself into a difficult and perilous situation, it is only just to acknowledge that he extricated himself with even more than his usual ability and presence of mind.  He had only fifty men with him.  The building in which he had taken up his residence was on every side blockaded by the insurgents, But his fortitude remained unshaken.  The Rajah from the other side of the river sent apologies and liberal offers.  They were not even answered.  Some subtle and enterprising men were found who undertook to pass through the throng of enemies, and to convey the intelligence of the late events to the English cantonments.  It is the fashion of the natives of India to wear large earrings of gold.  When they travel, the rings are laid aside, lest the precious metal should tempt some gang of robbers; and, in place of the ring,