e Coote's splendid services, and while standing on
the breach at Seringapatam, one was reminded of Wellington's early
life in India, and marvelled how heavily-armed men could have ventured
to cross the single plank which alone spanned the deep, broad ditch of
the inner defences.

I should like to dwell on the architectural wonders of Tanjore and
the Caves of Ellora; the magnificent entertainments and Princely
hospitality accorded to us by the Nizam of Hyderabad, the late
Maharajas of Mysore and Travancore, the Maharaja of Vizianagram, the
Raja of Cochin, and many other Rulers of Native States; the delights
of a trip along the west coast by the beautiful 'back-water,' and the
return journey through the glorious forests of Cannara and Mysore;
the pleasure of visiting the lovely 'White Lady'[4] and the wonderful
Kaveri falls; but to give my readers any idea of their marvels would
be to put too great a strain upon their patience, which I fear has
already been severely taxed.

The late Maharaja of Travancore was an unusually enlightened Native.
He spoke and wrote English fluently; his appearance was distinguished,
and his manners those of a well-bred, courteous English gentleman of
the old school. His speech on proposing the Queen's health was a model
of fine feeling and fine expression, and yet this man was steeped
in superstition. His Highness sat, slightly retired from the table,
between my wife and myself while dinner was going on; he partook of
no food or wine, but his close contact with us (he led my wife in to
dinner and took her out on his arm) necessitated his undergoing a
severe course of purification at the hands of the Brahmins as soon
as the entertainment was over; he dared not do anything without the
sanction of the priests, and he spent enormous sums in propitiating
them.

Notwithstanding the high civilization, luxury, and refinement to
be found in these Native States, my visits to them strengthened my
opinion that, however capable and enlightened the Ruler, he could have
no chance of holding his country if deprived of the guiding hand of
the British Government as embodied in the Resident. It is just that
control, so light in ordinary times as to be hardly perceptible, but
firm enough when occasion demands, which saves the State from being
rent by factions and internal intrigue, or swallowed up by a more
powerful neighbour, for, owing to the influence of the Brahmins and
the practical seclusion which caste