be solid reasons for the public to appreciate the conditions, at once severely practical, and of the moral order, which make the continuation of the existing policy necessary to the welfare of the Northern Protectorate. Let us first consider geographical verities and ways and means. Northern Nigeria is 255,000 square miles in extent and the territory is divided into thirteen provinces. Of these provinces, Sokoto, the most considerable in point of area, is nearly as large as Scotland and Wales; Bornu is the size of Ireland; Kano is almost as large as Scotland; Kontagora-Borgu is slightly larger than, and Bauchi and Muri the size of, Greece; the Niger Province is as extensive as Servia; Yola is as large as Denmark, and Nassarawa exceeds the area of Switzerland. It is only by realizing space, by realizing that months of travel still separate some provinces from others, that the expense, to say nothing of other considerations, which would be entailed in gathering up all the administrative threads of such a territory into the hands of a staff of British officials can be understood. I have never heard it suggested that the Lords of the Treasury parted enthusiastically with the meagre sum allotted to Northern Nigeria. One cannot imagine that their Lordships’ satisfaction would increase if they were presented not with a bill of a quarter of a million but of two millions. The single Province of Kano, which under the present system is supervised by seventeen political officers, and more than pays its own way, would require at least three hundred officials if direct rule were established, or the prestige of the Emirs so weakened as to deprive them of all real authority over the people, and this, exclusive of a swarm of native officials who could not be done without in any case. That brings me to my next point. Direct rule would, of necessity, involve an enormous, directly paid, native staff. For its every action the Government would be compelled to accept responsibility, and its members would, perforce, be largely composed of the class of native—the most undesirable type, it may be added—from which the policemen and soldiers are now recruited. Putting aside the question of expenditure altogether, can any sane man, disposed to look the facts squarely in the face and knowing anything of the country, contemplate with equanimity the consequences of such a _régime_? Then, assuming for purposes of argument the non-existence of these impediments, where would lie the moral justification, let alone the purely political expediency, of sweeping away the rule of the natural rulers of the country? CHAPTER X THE FOUNDATIONS OF NATIVE SOCIETY—THE TENURE OF LAND