If the artificial definition of Dionysius be correct, that “History is Philosophy teaching by examples,” then there is no Native Indian Historian; and few have even approached to so high a standard. Of examples, and very bad ones, we have ample store, though even in them the radical truth is obscured by the hereditary, official, and sectarian prepossessions of the narrator; but of philosophy, which deduces conclusions calculated to benefit us by the lessons and ex­perience of the past, which adverts on the springs and consequences of political transactions, and offers sage counsel for the future, we search in vain for any sign or symptom. Of domestic history also we have in our Indian Annalists absolutely nothing, and the same may be remarked of nearly all Muhammadan historians, except Ibn Khaldún. By them society is never contemplated, either in its conventional usages or recognized privileges; its constituent elements or mutual relations; in its established classes or popular institutions; in its private recesses or habitual intercourses. In notices of com­merce, agriculture, internal police, and local judicature, they are equally deficient. A fact, an anecdote, a speech, a remark, which would illustrate the condition of the common people, or of any rank subordinate to the highest, is considered too insignificant to be suf­fered to intrude upon a relation which concerns only grandees and ministers, “thrones and imperial powers.”

Hence it is that these works may be said to be deficient in some of the most essential requisites of History, for “its great object,” says Dr. Arnold, “is that which most nearly touches the inner life of civilized man, namely, the vicissitudes of institutions, social, political, and religious. This is the <greek> of historical enquiry.”* In Indian Histories there is little which enables us to penetrate below the glittering surface, and observe the practical operation of a despotic Government and rigorous and sanguinary laws, and the effect upon the great body of the nation of these injurious in­fluences and agencies.

If, however, we turn our eyes to the present Muhammadan king­doms of India, and examine the character of the princes, and the condition of the people subject to their sway, we may fairly draw a parallel between ancient and modern times, under circumstances and relations nearly similar. We behold kings, even of our own creation, sunk in sloth and debauchery, and emulating the vices of a Caligula or a Commodus. Under such rulers, we cannot wonder that the fountains of justice are corrupted; that the state revenues are never collected without violence and outrage; that villages are burnt, and their inhabitants mutilated or sold into slavery; that the officials, so far from affording protection, are themselves the chief robbers and usurpers; that parasites and eunuchs revel in the spoil of plundered provinces; and that the poor find no redress against the oppressor's wrong and proud man's contumely. When we witness these scenes under our own eyes, where the supremacy of the British Govern­ment, the benefit of its example, and the dread of its interference, might be expected to operate as a check upon the progress of mis­rule, can we be surprised that former princes, when free from such restraints, should have studied even less to preserve the people com­mitted to their charge, in wealth, peace, and prosperity? Had the authors whom we are compelled to consult, pourtrayed their Cæsars with the fidelity of Suetonius, instead of the more congenial sycophancy of Paterculus, we should not, as now, have to extort from unwilling witnesses, testimony to the truth of these assertions. From them, nevertheless, we can gather, that the common people must have been plunged into the lowest depths of wretchedness and despondency. The few glimpses we have, even among the short Extracts in this single volume, of Hindús slain for disputing with Muhammadans, of general prohibitions against processions, worship, and ablutions, and of other intolerant measures, of idols mutilated, of temples razed, of forcible conversions and marriages, of proscrip­tions and confiscations, of murders and massacres, and of the sen­suality and drunkenness of the tyrants who enjoined them, show us that this picture is not overcharged, and it is much to be regretted that we are left to draw it for ourselves from out the mass of ordinary occurrences, recorded by writers who seem to sympathize with no virtues, and to abhor no vices. Other nations exhibit the same atrocities, but they are at least spoken of, by some, with indigna­tion and disgust. Whenever, therefore, in the course of this Index, a work is characterized as excellent, admirable, or valuable, it must be remembered that these terms are used relatively to the narrative only; and it is but reasonable to expect that the force of these epithets will be qualified by constant advertence to the deficiencies just commented on.

These deficiencies are more to be lamented, where, as sometimes happens, a Hindú is the author. From one of that nation we might have expected to have learnt what were the feelings, hopes, faiths, fears, and yearnings, of his subject race; but, unfortunately, he rarely writes unless according to order or dictation, and every phrase is studiously and servilely turned to flatter the vanity of an imperious Muhammadan patron. There is nothing to betray his religion or his nation, except, perhaps, a certain stiffness and affectation of style, which show how ill the foreign garb befits him. With him, a Hindú is “an infidel,” and a Muhammadan “one of the true faith,’ and of the holy saints of the calendar, he writes with all the fervour of a bigot. With him, when Hindús are killed, “their souls are des­patched to hell,” and when a Muhammadan suffers the same fate, “he drinks the cup of martyrdom.” He is so far wedded to the set phrases and inflated language of his conquerors, that he speaks of “the light of Islám shedding its refulgence on the world,” of “the blessed Muharram,” and of “the illustrious Book.” He usually opens with a “Bismillah,” and the ordinary profession of faith in the unity of the Godhead, followed by laudations of the holy prophet, his disciples and descendants, and indulges in all the most devout and orthodox attestations of Muhammadans. One of the Hindú authors here noticed, speaks of standing in his old age, “at the head of his bier and on the brink of his grave,” though he must have been fully aware that, before long, his remains would be burnt, and his ashes cast into the Ganges. Even at a later period, when no longer “Tiberii ac Neronís res ob metum falsæ,”* there is not one of this slavish crew who treats the history of his native country sub­jectively, or presents us with the thoughts, emotions, and raptures which a long oppressed race might be supposed to give vent to, when freed from the tyranny of its former masters, and allowed to express itself in the natural language of the heart, without constraint and without adulation.