sented two feet; one, English shod, stepping off a piece of ground marked 'Afghanistan,' and another, encased in a big Russian boot, advancing closely upon it, with the evident intention of administering a kick to the retiring party." Of the suicidal policy of evacuating Kandahar we shall speak hereafter, but will only add by the way, that the Kandahar people themselves were no less averse to the evacuation than the English public at large. Admitting that there have been, and always will be, fanatics in Mohammedan communities, it must not be lost sight of that a large majority of Kandaharees, and particularly the Tadjik and Parsivan portion, are a trading and industrious people, who preferred the settled rule, order, and justice, introduced by the English, to the despotism of rapacious Afghan Serdars; and they not only regretted the departure of the British, but I remember having read a kasideh (poem) in praise of their new rulers, and bewailing their having been left by them.

CHAPTER VI.

RUSSIA'S DESIGNS UPON HERAT.

HAVING Succeeded in undoing entirely the work of their predecessors, the party in power in England since 1880 have been afforded ample opportunity to become convinced of the gross mistakes into which they had rushed. But, alas! blindness, a great misfortune with single individuals, is certainly far more disastrous in the case of a large body, and, particularly if that large body is entrusted with the conduct of the affairs of a powerful State such as Great Britain.

Whilst publicly clinging, with rare obstinacy worthy of a better cause, to the soundness of their views, they seemed to have been secretly very often roused from their slumbers of delusive security. As the Russian columns proceeded along the Kubbet mountains, in the north of Persia, the leading statesmen in London were more than once seized by feelings of restlessness. Interpellations, couched in polite and considerate language, were sent to St. Petersburg, where particular care was taken not to offend

the dear friends on the Thames. Such polite but meaningless answers were vouchsafed at the time when Russia rectified her frontier on the Gurgan with Persia. Of a similar tenor was the excuse sent, after the Russian victory at Geok-Tepe; and who does not remember the glorious tidings Sir Charles Dilke brought to the House of Commons, announcing that the Czar, in order to allay the apprehensions of the British, had recalled General Skobeleff from the scene of his heroic exploits, and that henceforward not a single step would be made towards the east, for it was solely and exclusively the intention of the Czar to chastise the reckless Turkoman robbers, and to put an end to that horrible man-stealing occupation of these lawless tribes. Humanitarian England exulted with joy thereat, and those who ventured to view things in a different light were stigmatised as reckless barbarians. A short pause set in ; but with the insatiable earth-hunger of Russia, who, as we related, very soon stretched out a feeler towards Merv, the party could, unfortunately, but a very short time enjoy their rest.

At the Russian plea that the last named place

had voluntarily submitted, even the staunchest believers in Muscovite promises began to shake their heads. Merv was the last straw which broke the back of the British ministerial camel, and poor Sir Edward Thornton in St. Petersburg had the worst

of it, for he had to keep up an incessant running from the Czar to Giers and from Giers to the Czar. At one moment he got a despatch from London to ask for an explanation concerning the seizure of Merv. The Czar gives a decided denial to the statement, vowing that he never had the slightest intention of taking Merv, and that he will never take it. Sir Edward telegraphs home the reassuring answer of his Russian Majesty; but, on hearing a statement to the contrary from London, he has to inquire again, and now he learns how displeased and angry his Russian Majesty was with his generals on the frontier, who always act in disobedience to his orders, causing so many, many worries to him. The poor Czar is really the most troubled man in the world; but, as a good-natured ruler, he ultimately gives in, and not only retains the object of vexation, but bestow's even honours upon those who have trespassed upon his forbearance. This has been the history and process of many Russian annexations in Asia; it would have proved equally efficacious with Merv, had it not been for the fact that this was the last drop which filled to overflowing the cup of Russian lies and breaches of faith. This fact startled even the most optimistic politicians on the Thames. The flood of English diplomatic despatches to St. Petersburg went on swelling, the machinery in Downing Street

was worked at a high steam pressure, and, strange to say, the anxiously looked for explanation had not yet arrived when Liberal England awoke to another surprise—namely, the seizure of Sarakhs, of a place which lies beyond the so-called Turkoman country, and could have nothing to do with the civilising measures taken against the Turkomans.

I call this new Russian move a surprise, although, from the very beginning, it must have been patent to everybody that, having succeeded in annexing the country north of Persia, she would glide down also on the eastern frontier of the same country; this all the more as the tract intervening between Afghanistan and Persia is deservedly called "No man's land,” and, in fact, could not have been designated as the property of anybody for the last two hundred years, since when the Turkomans, becoming masters of the Tedjend and Murghab oases, have used this intervening track as a highway for their robberies into the interior of Persia. Of this fact Russia was fully aware, even at the outset of her conquering trips against the Turkomans; for attentive readers of Russia's doings in this quarter of the world will remember the elaborate report General Petrusevitch made, when Governor of Krasnovodsk, in which he earnestly advised his Government to thrust a wedge between Persia and Afghanistan, through the