aspect of the question, all classes of the community are bound to be
interested. If pestilence begins its deadly work among the destitute, it
can never be reckoned on to stop there. Indeed pestilence may be
regarded as _Nature's revenge_ on society for the neglect of the poor.
Once the cholera fiend has broken loose, it is impossible to tell whom
he is going to select for his victims. The rich, the fair, the learned,
the young, the strong, are often the first objects of his attention. He
manifests a reckless disregard of social position. The distinctions of
caste and rank, of beauty or learning, are not for him. And even as I
write he may be preparing his invisible hordes of bacilli for fresh
invasions, more terrible than those that have ever swept down from the
mountains of Afghanistan. While we are spending millions upon
strengthening our North-Western Frontiers against a foe who may never
exist, save in our imagination, can we dare to neglect the more terrible
enemy who defies all Boundary Commissions, who overleaps the strongest
fortresses, and who laughs to scorn the largest cannon that ever capped
our walls?

3. Finally there is one very sad shade in this part of our picture of
darkest India. If on the one hand pestilence may be said to somewhat
thin the ranks of the destitute by decreasing the number of mouths
requiring to be fed, it must be remembered on the other hand that it
continually recruits them both by sweeping away so many of the
breadwinners, and by frequently paralysing many of those who are left,
and preventing them from earning what they otherwise might. How often do
we hear of even public institutions having to be closed, and of
thousands being thrown out of work by the panic which ensues at such
times.

I have sought to confine myself to a matter-of-fact description of this