On one occasion I paid a visit to the celebrated Chinese Commissioner Yeh, who was a state prisoner at Calcutta, and lived in a large house in the environs. He was dressed in loose white Chinese clothes, with wooden shoes, and was very polite but extremely cautious. We conversed by means of an interpreter. Nothing would induce Yeh to leave his house, although a carriage and horses were kept for him. My efforts to interest him in various subjects entirely failed. I asked if he liked the Indian climate, and he replied that he had not turned his thoughts in that direction. I described the bazaars and shops, and recommended him to go out in his carriage and visit them; but he only said he had heard about them, and would send his secretary to make a report. He told me he was much occupied, and on my asking what he did, he replied that he liked to 'sit down.' He was offered books to be translated to him, but remarked that the contents of all the best ones were already in his stomach, so that he did not require them. He died soon afterwards, presumably of indigestion. In the early part of 1859 another serious and untoward event occurred, in the discontent of the men of the local European forces at many of the large stations all over the country. Hitherto, in each presidency, the artillery and three regiments of infantry consisted of men recruited at home, but who served continuously in India--in fact, a local European army distinct from the Queen's troops. In the years gone by, and during the Mutiny, they had performed great services, and were deservedly held in high esteem. When, however, in 1858 the rule of the old East India Company came to an end, the great majority of these men considered that, as the Queen had assumed direct authority over the local armies, they were entitled either to their discharge, or, at all events, to a bounty on the transfer of their services to the Crown. Their claims were referred to England for consideration, but were ultimately refused by the Home Government; and, as a consequence, serious disaffection, combined in some cases with violence and a refusal to perform their duties, ensued. It may perhaps be conceded that the curt refusal of their claim was not altogether judicious, but in reality the causes of discontent lay deeper and had been accumulating for some time. The Commander-in-Chief, who was ill at Simla, was much impressed with this unfortunate state of affairs, and was in frequent communication with Lord Canning at Calcutta. Writing in May 1859, he said:[54] 'I am irresistibly led to the conclusion that henceforth it will be dangerous to the State to maintain a European local army.... We cannot afford to attend to any other consideration than those of discipline and loyalty, which may be constantly renovated by the periodical return to England of all the regiments in every branch of the service.' The Viceroy was much pressed by some authorities at the time to grant the bounty, notwithstanding the