ssault," by an Indian native--Wellesley, Kelly, Sir David Baird,
Captain Prescott, Lt. C. Dunlop, Baillie, Bell, Lt.-Colonel Gardiner,
Dalrymple, General Stuart, Wallace, Sherbrooke, Douse, Hart, Lalor--all
well-known Scottish and Irish names, except two or perhaps three that
may be English, but the Native puts them all, down as "English!" So does
the editor of Murray's "Guide to India"--describes those who fought
under Duff, Grant, and Ford as an "English Force." So foolish writers
are filching our good name by ignoring the Terms of Union, and
deliberately or unconsciously are working up another scrap on the banks
of the Bannock--well, so be it, the times are a little dull; and we need
a little national stiffening north of Tweed.

The Water-gate, where Tippoo Sultan got his _coup de grace_ in the
general flight of his people, is just the quiet and peaceful place in
which to doze and dream for a summer day on the green sward under the
park-like trees. The Gate is an arched passage through thick walls
leading to a walled-in space with trees hanging over it; through a
tumbled down bit of this wall you come on to the river. It was
delightful there, no one about, excepting two or three women washing
clothes on the stones in the clear running water, with the sunshine and
flickering shadows from the trees falling over them. But it must have
been bustling enough on the 4th of May, 1799, when Tippoo tried to pass,
with Baird's troops behind! What would one not give to have seen that
last tableau: the British soldier in the crowd of natives going for the
wounded Sultan's jewelled sword belt, the jam and press, and the heat
and danger! The Sultan objected and wounded the soldier, so the soldier
put a bullet through the Sultan's head--and what became of our northern
robber, and the belt? What heaps of jewels Tippoo had collected; he used
to spend days in his treasure-house inventorying his stores of diamonds
and pearls, and to-day you may see some of the strings of pearls if you
dine out in Edinburgh. After the assault, during the night, a soldier
found his way into the treasury, and by morning a handful of diamonds
was the price offered and asked for a bottle of Arrack. These
international looting scenes seem to me peculiarly fascinating; I think
a little prize-money won that way must feel worth fortunes earned in
business. How our soldier of to-day swears at being deprived of such
perquisites, and how he wishes he had been "in th