(4) _The migration of nations._ Few things in the history of the world are more surprising to us than whole nations making their way to new and remote countries. I have thought I have got a little help towards understanding these movements when I have observed large bands of people--men, women, and children--pursuing their journey, carrying with them all they deemed necessary, and lying out at night on the bare ground, with a blanket, which they had carried over their shoulder, as their only covering. They took food with them when they knew that at their halting-place it could not be procured. Very differently do our native regiments travel. They are attended by a host of camp-followers, and have a formidable amount of baggage. I once saw a party of woodmen in the hills sleeping under a tree when there was frost on the ground; and on the remark being made it was a wonder they could live, a hillman remarked, "Has not each got his blanket? What hardship is there?" When nations migrated they no doubt sent out scouring parties, who seized all the food on which they could lay their hands. When travelling alone in the hills I had commonly with me a tent so small that a man carried it on his head, but I must acknowledge I could not approach the simplicity of the native traveller's arrangements.
The climate of India precludes the possibility of its being a sphere for European colonization. With the exception of the hill districts, the intense heat during the greater part of the year makes out-door occupation trying even to the native, and well-nigh unendurable for Europeans--a heat uncompensated by the coolness of the night, for in the North-West, at least, the stifling closeness of the night is more trying than the heat of the day. If this heat lasted for only a few days, as in Southern Australia, it might be borne, though a hindrance to work; but in India it lasts for months, and it is succeeded by months of drenching rain, during a great part of which the moisture and mugginess are as unpleasant as the previous dry heat had been.
Apart from climate, there is no room for us as colonists. In India we have not to do with rude tribes, as in America, New Zealand, and Australia, and in a measure in Southern Africa, that cannot be said to possess the land over which they and their fathers have long roamed, or of which they have cultivated a very small part. We have to do with ancient nations that have taken full possession of the land by cultivation of the soil, and by pursuit of the arts of civilized life. We find in India no tribes wasting away before the white stranger, but a people growing in number under the security of our government. There are districts in the North-West more densely peopled than any districts in Europe occupied by an agricultural population. The emigration of coolies to the Mauritius, to Bourbon, to the coast of South America, and to the West Indian Islands, has done little to relieve the pressure. Migration to unoccupied parts of Central India and Assam has been carried out to a small extent, and it is very desirable this migration should increase. Non-Aryan tribes occupy a large part of the mountains and forests of Central and Eastern India. They have no wish for accession from the people of the plains, and still less do they wish for the entrance of Europeans. I can say nothing about the mountains of the South, but so far as I have travelled over the sub-Himalayan range in the North there is no place for Europeans in it, except for officials or employers, and managers of native labour, such as tea-planters.