drive off." So saying, I paid the man in advance for waiting, and followed my party to the entrance-door, which was of heavy wood.

My reason for retaining the cabman was this: I had been waiting some days for the official permission to visit the catacombs, and, on the very morning when it arrived, I was preparing to start for London upon business of moment. Now, the train started at twelve, and the written permit arrived at ten. I was undesirous of losing the opportunity for my underground exploration, and I was desirous of starting by the twelve o'clock train. I therefore came to the conclusion that if half an hour in the catacombs (from eleven to half-past) would satisfy me, I could then eatch the train by twelve if I had a cab ready: whereas if I found the exploration sufficiently attractive to occupy more time, I would then defer my departure until the evening.

in which all the teeth were singularly perfect, white, and gleaming, I turned into the passage, meaning to inspect this skull more narrowly, when, as I moved my head towards it, a horrible rat, frightened at my presence, leaped in its fright against my cheek. I fell as though I had been shot. We all have antipathies more or less, and my antipathy is rats. I abhor them. I am almost ashamed to say it, but the shock of the sudden appearance and touch of that rat, caused me to faint. I must have lost my senses for many minutes.

When I knew myself again, I was utterly in the dark. The blackness seemed absolutely to hit me. I heard not a sound at first; then a rumbling; it was a passing carriage rolling above my horrible tomb. For a few moments I think I lost my consciousness once more. I am not sure, however, on this point. Having again recovered it, I endeavoured to grasp the full truth of my position.

My friends were not near me, that was certain. Now, had they left the catacombs, or were they searching for me? That they discovered they had lost me, almost immediately after I had fainted, seemed to me certain. Then how was it they had left the spot near which they had last

I found the catacombs extraordinary, but monotonous. Everybody knows that they were originally the stone mines which supplied the building material of Paris; in fact, it has been aptly said that Paris has been built of her own entrails. Let there be the least volcanic shock below Paris-she lies in a volcanic line-and her stupendous palaces, her whole being, would be swallowed in the tomb she herself has exca-seen me? It was certain that, in looking for vated. me, they would take the line we had traversed. At the beginning of this century, Napoleon Then why had they not found me? Suddenly decreed extramural interment, and all the grave-the awful truth flashed upon me. They had yards within the walls of Paris were broken up thought, after calling to me many times and and built over. The bones of centuries were receiving no answer, that I had tried to make moved into the catacombs. Millions of the bones my way to the entrance. When they reached of dead French were carried thither, and fantas-it the half-hour was ended, and, the driver being tically arranged. The visitor passes between two gone, they had believed him to have taken me walls of skulls, which all seem to stare at him away, and so supposed me on my road to with a ghastly blind stare. England.

Ten minutes were quite enough to satisfy my It was a terrible knowledge to gain, but I did curiosity; but our guide, true to his trade, kept not utterly despair. I felt sure that the alarm on making the widest promises of coming won-would be taken before I had been long enough ders, and, as a couple of my party were ladies, I need not add that the party's curiosity was stimulated by the assertions of our leader. We each carried a little lamp, and we looked an odd group.

"Well," said I, at last, "I really think I will leave you to your promenade. I can find my way back, I feel sure, and I have yet time to catch the train."

The guide laughed at the idea of my finding my way back to the entrance. I looked at my watch. It wanted ten minutes to the half-hour; if I did not go back at once, the cab would be

gone.

in my living tomb to die of starvation. But to pass even four or five days underground, without food or water, in a darkness which was positively maddening

I could not remain inactive; I must do something. What could I do?

My first question was, should I remain where I lay? In the first place, such inaction would kill me; in the second, it was needless: for, as when the alarm should be taken every inch of this subterranean world would be searched till I should be found, it mattered not whither 1 might have wandered-1 should be equally safe anywhere.

We had passed many transverse passages in I got up, stretched my hand, and touched the our way; indeed, the catacombs, as I saw them, wall of skulls. I shrank to the ground again. seemed a wide street, intersected at regular in- A few moments and I conquered my cowardice. tervals by smaller streets, and courts, and alleys. I declare to you, that within a few moments, and I was the last of my party, and perhaps, reluc-purely by dint of gravely and kindly reasoning tant as I felt to go on, I lagged behind. At all events, I was looking about me from one side to the other, when, as the lamp of my companions crossed one of the transverse cuttings, I noticed, a few steps along this passage, an immense skull,

with myself, I was able to touch the dead about me with absolute calmness; nay, I could run my hand over the shape of the skull with a kind of curiosity.

My lamp was shivered into a thousand pieces.

I cannot tell to this day how it was my companions did not hear the crash. I can only suppose that a carriage was rumbling along the road overhead, when I fell.

Suddenly I thought of the rat. If the horrible thing came towards me, what should I do? The thought was parent to the belief that the execrable thing was there. I struck out instinctively, and, my hand coming upon some of the broken glass of the lamp, it was cut, and I felt blood flowing from the wounds. I bound my handkerchief, my gloves, my cravat, round and round the wounds, rather than a drop of my life's blood should fall, to become food for the horrible creature that had brought me to this

pass.

But I felt I must move-I must seek to free myself while help was coming. Which way should I turn?

I remembered that I had entered the passage on my right, and that the skull was on the left; then, to leave it, in order to reach the road by which we had come, I must let it be on my right hand, and when I had reached the road I must turn to the left. I soon discovered the inordinately large skull, left it on my right, and groped my way the few steps to the roadway. I knew when I reached it by the angle of bones. Immediately, my highly-pitched senses perceived a change. My right cheek experienced an increase of temperature. Mind-my right cheek.

I asked myself to what this change could be attributable? I soon answered myself. It was a current of air from the outer world. Now, thought I, this current of air-for current it was, though I could detect no movement in the atmosphere-must come from an opening; that opening must be at or near a door; then, if I follow up against this current, I shall ultimately reach the spot at which it enters.

Next moment, I know I must have turned pale, for, when I turned full face towards the current I could detect no difference of temperature. It required a contrast between the two cheeks, as it were, to ascertain the difference. I have since been told by a scientific friend that this can be accounted for. The nerves of the face, when I stood sideways, were struck by the current laterally, and therefore, not so naturally as when the face was set towards it: because, as all the provisions of nature exhibit preservation of forces, the nerves of the face in meeting the wind naturally-that is, when the man is walking-are so placed in relation to the wind, as to offer the least possible amount of nervous surface to its influence.

As suddenly as I had been struck with the cause of the current I obtained another means of ascertaining my way. I turned to the wall of skulls which flanked the main road, and against which my right hand still was. Now, I thought, that side of each skull which receives the warm current precisely as my face received it, will, from its action, be drier than the other side, which has been infinitely less open to the in

fluence of the comparatively drying influence of this external atmosphere.

It was as I thought. The right side of the skull-that is, the side which was right when I stood with my back to the wall-was smoother than the left; so it was with twenty other skulls. I was not in error, and my heart beat wildly. It was clear, let me follow this clue, and sooner or later it must lead me to the entrance. But there was a fault!

I knew that we had come along the road which lay to my left; the current blew from the right. One of two causes accounted for this. Either I had become confused in my memory of the locality, and the right was my road, or there was more than one entrance to these vaults. I decided to move to the right. I never learnt afterwards how many miles I really did travel; to me it seemed hundreds. I went on and on. Sometimes rapidly, sometimes slowly, but always surely. I knew that sooner or later I must come to a door. When I came to one of the transverse cuttings, of course I had to make several steps at random. The duration of those steps seemed years. My fingers trembled with agony until they touched once more, the reassuring line of skulls. Sometimes I missed the clue both of the drier side of the skull and the test of heat on my face by turning it sideways, but I soon regained it by continuing on. I suppose that at those times I was skirting curves. How many hours I spent in that wondrous walk, that logical deduction, if so I may call it, I only knew when I was once more in the open air. If I had sat down and waited for help I should either have gone mad or idiotic, or have killed myself. Depend on it, reader, no matter how bad your condition, in whatever fix you may be placed, there is no help like your own.

I used to hear-I am speaking of my incarceration as though it lasted months-I used to hear the rumbling of the carriages overhead more or less distinctly, according to the depth of the stone above me. Yet it was company. That was the only noise which broke my silence-for I seemed to have gained the faculty of walking without sound-except on one dear occasion, when my heart beat so fast that I almost feared I was going to die. This was when I heard a voice-a brave, brisk, human voice-singing a blithe French chansonnette. I saw no light, but I felt sure I must be near an aperture from the catacombs, or at least a hole made for ventilating purposes, opening in some yard or workshop.

And then to think that I had to leave the spot at which I heard the pleasant sounds, and continue my journey till I found the origin of the current! I did not quit it, however, till long after the song had ceased. I called and halloaed, but no reply came.

Reverting to that current once more, it was astonishing how easily I learnt its growing force, for I concentrated my whole mind upon the lesson. Ultimately, I could almost calculate the increase in its motion and temperature which so

It was a door of open lattice-work. All looked dark beyond! But I knew I was at the exit. I had known that, for many thousands of steps-many; and yet, when I touched the door, how I started!

many hundred steps would yield. At last, sud-lish, contributed gallantly to the good work; but denly, without any warning, the line of skulls they could not prevent many thousands of perceased, and I touched wood! sons from dying of starvation, although they certainly saved many thousands more. Had the question been merely one of money, the means might have been found to procure subsistence But the difficulty was to for all the sufferers. get at them. The entire population could not be brought into the large towns and stations to receive food, even had sufficient been forthcoming for the number. It was necessary to go to the persons requiring relief, and to convey the As it is impossible even for government officials to be everywhere at once, and as hunger will not wait, the difficulties attendant upon the work may be conceived. These were, moreover, aggravated by absence of means of communication, caused by the want of roads and conveyance. The cure was thus necessarily imperfect. How far the recurrence of the evil can be prevented it is most desirable to examine; and for this purpose we cannot do better than follow the facts set forth by Colonel Baird Smith in his report upon the subject, presented to the Indian government.

What a celestial glory the day had, as it broke upon my eyes, streaming in exquisite blue rays through the chinks of the outer door which was beyond the lattice-work! I have no occasion to tell how I broke that lattice-work, how I ham-food to them. mered at the outer door, how I was at last released in the presence of half a dozen gendarmes (who had drawn their swords), and of a score of wondering workmen. i

This was not the gate by which I had entered. If I had been immured forty-two hours (as they told me), I had passed two nights in the catacombs, and all that time I had never once sat down.

I found my friends in a great fright. They had only just learnt, by telegraph, that I had not reached England, and that nobody in London knew anything about me. I was ill for some time, of course; but I recovered to claim the distinction of having touched more skulls than any other man living.

FAMINE IN INDIA.

There are several questions connected with famine in India. The system of irrigation has naturally a great deal to do with their force, if not their frequency, as famine, in most cases, arises from drought. The system of internal communication has also not a little relation to the subject, for reasons already alluded to. But the most important question

OUR subject is a sad one, but we are fortuin connexion with the subject is the land nately enabled to take a cheerful view of it, and revenue settlement-the terms upon which the promise not to inflict upon the reader any pur-land is held and the adjustment of the governposeless pain. We can assure even that particularly uncomfortable person, known as "the most delicate female," that she may peruse these pages without danger of having her feelings harrowed up by any unpleasant details of suffering such as nature, in a coarse and vulgar way, will make occasionally manifest. Our object, indeed, is not to describe what Indian famines are, but what they might be made; for a very good authority has come to the conclusion that they are by no means so inevitable as is generally supposed, and that there are means by which they may in a great measure be "put down."

Of course famines may be put down by the rude expedient of feeding the people; but we do not intend to propose any such preposterous remedy. It would be preposterous to feed people by charitable contributions, if we could at a less cost enable them to feed themselves, without any charity at all. Prevention is always better than cure, and in a case where prevention may be made nearly perfect, and cure can be effected only to a very small extent, the former is preferable in an even greater degree. It is the latter process that has been tried in the North-West Provinces during the famine with which they have been desolated for some months past. The efforts which have been made to mitigate the horrors of the crisis reflect honour upon all concerned. The Indian government and the public, both Indian and Eng

ment demand upon it. It lies, we are told, far nearer to the root of the matter, because of its intimate and vital relation to the every-day life of the people, and their growth towards prosperity or towards degradation, than any such accessories as canals or roads, however important both of these may be. In order that the reader may test the truth of this assertion we will make a dive into the colonel's statistics of the famines which have taken place during a period of more than a hundred years past. From 1733 to 1861, it appears that there were thirteen droughts, causing a greater or less degree of scarcity. These happened at intervals varying from four to twenty-four years, which is a not unimportant fact, as it disposes of a popular theory that such calamities are of regular periodical recurrence, to be accepted as matters of course. Of the thirteen visitations the most destructive were those of six seasons between and including those of 1770 and 1861. These occurred with a greater approach to regularity, that is to say, the intervals between them varied from thirteen to twenty-four years; but even this difference is sufficient to show that the idea of their periodical recurrence is a delusion. Of these six great famines, that of 1770 was the greatest of all. It is believed to have been the most severe that has ever fallen upon India. It is worthy of remark, by the way, that this famine although included among the

They could not sell them, for nobody would buy them. They could not mortgage them, for nobody would lend money upon them. The average selling price in 1837 was at one year's rent, or about a third more than the amount of the government demand on the total area sold. This was the rate when sales could be effected at all; but it may easily be supposed that in time of distress they would be generally out of the question. And this state of things was owing not so much to any unbearable pressure of taxation, although that was bad enough, as to the uncertainty of the tenure, and the know. ledge that it was in the power of government to increase the demand from time to time, and to throw any burden upon the soil that it pleased.

In 1860-61, notwithstanding that food was higher, and the general conditions less favourable, the mortality was far less; there was no social disorganisation, and the small proprietors generally managed to tide over their difficulties. Land, which, as we have seen, in the former period was worth only a third more than the government demand upon it, had in the latter period risen to five times the revenue, which is its present rate. The total amount of the land revenue in 1837-39, in those parts of the NorthWest and Delhi territory under long settlements, was, in round numbers, three and a half

droughts, is declared by the natives to have the owners could keep them in cultivation. resulted from an exactly contrary cause-an excess of rain, which caused inundation, and washed away the crops. But one of the worst of these visitations was that of 1837-38, when it is considered probable that no less than eight hundred thousand persons perished of starvation. It is with the famine of this period that Colonel Smith compares that of 1860-61, and it is from the result of that comparison that we are enabled to draw the cheering conclusions at which we have arrived. The two areas which he has compared are much the same in extent, and it appears that other things were equal enough during the two periods to warrant the anticipation of similar effects from similar causes. But although the conditions during the former period were in almost every respect more favourable, the mortality was far greater, and the amount of general suffering must have been immensely in excess of that of 1860-61. Food during that former period was at an average price, in the worst localitics, of twelve and a half seers for a rupee, or twenty-five pounds for two shillings, according to English computation; while in the worst localities in the latter period the same sum of money purchased only from seventeen to nineteen pounds. This is the surest indication that the former famine was not so great in its pressure as the latter, and yet its victims were far more numerous! In millions sterling; the value of the land was somethe former period, too, there were signs of disorganisation of society such as have had no existence in the latter. Every exertion was made in 1837-38 to alleviate the general distress, as in 1860-61. Many thousands of persons were employed upon extraordinary public works, and the government remitted a large amount of revenue, while private subscriptions The direct cause of this happy change is unwere raised to a considerable extent. But, not-doubtedly the improved system of land revenue withstanding every exertion, it was found im- settlement in operation since the famine of possible in many parts to preserve order. 1837-38, or rather the successful working of a Driven to desperation by starvation, large system which had then but recently been enbodies of the population gathered into bands acted. When the North-West Provinces first for plunder, attacking the grain stores, and came under British rule, Lord Wellesley procarrying off their contents. Disorganisation, mised that the Permanent Settlement, as introindeed, threatened to become general, and could duced by Lord Cornwallis into Bengal, should only be repressed by force. Troops had to be be extended to them. This Permanent Settleemployed upon some occasions, and during the ment has its friends and its enemies, like most whole period of the famine it was found neces- other things. It was granted by Lord Cornsary to maintain a largely augmented body of wallis with the object of raising the position of police, both horse and foot. Of such disor- the cultivators by the encouragement-or, we ganisation as this, Colonel Smith tells us, there may almost say, the creation-of an upper class has been no sign during the famine of 1860-61, who should be responsible to the government nor has the amount of revenue remitted been for the revenue, which revenue being assessed anything comparable. It is evident that during at a certain rate in perpetuity, would give the the intervening period society had, by some proprietor the benefit of all improvements, and means, been strengthened, and had become through him, it was hoped, benefit the cultivator better able to resist the effects of the scourge. in a proportionate degree. Nothing appears more Of this there is abundant proof in the improved fair than such an arrangement. It was certainly condition of the smaller proprietors. In 1837-38 a most liberal one on the part of the government; they suffered in common with the humblest but though considered by many to involve an tillers of the soil. Landlords as well as labourers unnecessary sacrifice of state interests, it has perished of starvation, or were reduced to pau- proved successful in its working, and the goperism along with them. And this, notwith-vernment have no reason to object to it, though standing that they still held their lands. But it has been found generally distasteful to the these lands were useless to their owners unless | subordinate official mind. The great objection

what more than four and a half millions. In the succeeding twenty-four years the value of the land having risen to five times the amount of the former public demand, or to seventeen and a half millions; the wealth of the landowners is shown to be augmented by no less a sum than thirteen millions.

urged to it is, that it has, by conferring too sweepingly upon the zemindars-whose original status was that of farmers of the land revenue, the position and powers of proprietors of the soil-injustice was done in some cases to other claims, and that, in fact, the wrong man was not unfrequently put into the wrong place; and further, that while the settlement has benefited both the government and the proprietors, it has not been equally favourable to the peasantry, whom it has tended to depress.

necessary to employ in the elaborate machinery of the system, abused their powers in the grossest manner, to an extent, indeed, which would not have been possible under a zemindaree settlement.

It was the ryotwar system of Madras, combined with a system of village leases, that was first introduced into the North-West Provinces. Lord Wellesley, as we have said, promised a permanent settlement as in Bengal, but this was disallowed by the home authorities. The other plan was adopted by a regulation of 1822; but it was found too elaborate to be carried out, and by a regulation of 1833 the present settlement of the North-West Provinces was enacted. This was not completed until 1842, twenty years after it was first designed, the principle being the same as that of the scheme first introduced. The settlement, however, besides being made with communities or their representatives instead of with every individual peasant, has the advantage of being for thirty years instead of for one. It was originally intended to be for twenty, but it was considered advisable to make the extension. The result has been an amount of prosperity and confidence such as was not expected by anybody but the immediate promoters of the measure, who ex

successful operation that the comparatively mild effects of the famine must be mainly ascribed. Colonel Smith, in his report, bears undeniable testimony to the fact that, foremost among the means by which society in Northern India has been strengthened, so as to resist with far less suffering far heavier pressure from drought and famine in 1860-61 than in 1837-38, is the creation of a vast mass of readily convertible and easily transferable agricultural property, which is the direct result of the limitation for long terms of the government demand on the land, and the careful record of individual rights accompanying it, which have been in full and active operation since the existing settlements were made.

That there is some truth in these objections cannot be denied; but the defects pointed out are accidental, and not a necessary part of the system. As far as the invasion of individual rights is concerned, the errors were those of ignorance, haste, and want of proper precautions, and these are errors which need never occur again. The depression of the peasantry was certainly very great for a time, and up to 1830, when Rammohun Roy made a representation on their behalf in England, their condition must have been very bad indeed. But that it has materially improved since then there can be no doubt; and so wretched a state of things would never have existed at all had the govern ment not consented to remove the restriction by which the zemindars were at first prevented from ejecting any ryot who paid the then exist-pected a great deal more. And it is to its ing amount of rent. It would be a difficult matter, undoubtedly, to maintain a subordinate permanent settlement between landlord and tenant; but means might surely be found to protect the latter from tyrannical exactions without forfeiting the advantages of the system, And this, too, must be admitted-that whatever was the condition of the Bengal peasant fiveand-twenty years ago, under the Perpetual Settlement, it was better than that of the Madras peasant under the ryotwar system-the rival scheme of Sir Thomas Munro; and whereas the condition of the Bengal peasant has been improving since that period, the condition of the Madras peasant remains as bad as ever. Sir Thomas Munro's scheme was founded upon Nevertheless, it is a fact that, although the exactly opposite principles to that of Lord Corn- last famine has not been so destructive in its wallis. Its main object was to abolish all inter-effects as the former one, the amount of destrucvention between the government which collected the revenue and the people who paid it. The functions of the zemindars were swept away. Every peasant was to have his field measured and assessed, and to pay his tax direct to the state, the amount, as in Bengal, to be fixed in perpetuity. Nothing seemed more just than such an arrangement. There was only one objection to it. It would not work without gross invasion of private rights; but it has endured in the greater portion of the Madras presidency to this day, with some modifications, the principal of which is the substitution of an annual for the permanent settlement originally intended, while annual settlement is of course considered a tax upon improvement, and works accordingly. As far as oppression and corruption is concerned, things are doubtless not so bad as they were; but Sir Thomas Munro soon discovered that the native subordinates whom it was found

tion has been deplorable indeed. Colonel Smith does not venture to estimate the sum total of the mortality; but we may gain some idea of it when we hear that it is not nearly so great as in 1837-38, when the number of deaths were estimated at eight hundred thousand. Are we to understand that it may have been anything like half that number? In any case, it is clear that if there are means to be found to avert such horrors for the future, it is our duty to find them. A complete system of canals and roads would work wonders towards the object, and this may now be considered in progress. But there is more to be done still; and the excellent working of the long settlement leads us to the neces sary conclusion, as Colonel Smith recommends, that it should be made longer, and be extended, in part, in perpetuity, like that of Bengal. We have glanced at the objections made to that settlement, and repeat our conviction that what