r, the Governor leads the way into the Fort,
where a general meal is served and the news is told and the
exclamations of surprise are many. In the evening there is a banquet,
and after the banquet, 'when the gentlemen have finished their wine,'
and have rejoined the ladies, the stately dances of the period are
'performed;' and it is not unlikely that before the assembly breaks
up, some, if not all, of the newly-arrived young ladies have received
and have accepted offers of matrimony; and it is possible that two or
more gallants have had a serious quarrel about this young lady or
that, and even possible that, out of the Governor's sight, swords have
been drawn in her regard.

On the morrow the unloading begins; and for many days a fleet of
surf-boats is busily engaged in bringing ashore the broadcloths and
other English wares which the Company will be able to sell at a large
profit--not forgetting the barrels of canary and madeira and other
luxuries that have been imported both for private consumption and also
for the general table in the Fort. And when the unloading is over and
the ship has been overhauled after her long voyage, the surf-boats
will then be engaged in carrying to the ship the calicoes and other
Indian wares that are to be exported to England for the Company's
profit there.

The sea-trade of Madras is very much greater now than it was in the
days of old. Not a day now passes but at least one steamship glides
into the Madras Harbour, and it is always a much larger vessel than
was the very largest of the sailing-ships that in those bygone times
tacked laboriously to an anchorage in the Madras roads. But the
excitement has disappeared. The steamers come and go with as little
stir--or not so much--as when a tramcar leaves a crowded
street-corner.

In Madras there are still some reminders of the times when nautical
affairs were in more general evidence in Madras than they are now. For
example, the 'Naval Hospital Road' is still the name of a thoroughfare
which leads from the Poonamallee Road, opposite the School of Arts, to
Vepery, and it is a reminder of the fact that there were once upon a
time sufficient naval men in Madras to make a hospital for sick seamen
a necessity. The buildings of the old Naval Hospital still exist; they
are the buildings in the Poonamallee Road opposite the School of Arts.
In the early part of last century the Naval Hospital itself was
abolished, and the buildings were converted