one by--wild times and quiet times, years of war and years of
peaceful progress--and the scene has changed, and great is the
transformation. In place of the scattered huts there are huge
buildings on the beach, and behind them is a great and ever greater
city. The catamarans have not disappeared, but great ships pass to and
fro in the offing or lie within the shelter of the harbour walls. The
little 'Factory' in the Fort, within which the Company transacted its
mercantile business, has gone; but elsewhere in its stead there are
big offices of numerous commercial firms; and, moreover, there are
large 'factories' of the modern kind, such as are denoted by tall
chimneys and the perpetual roar of whirring wheels.

The growth of Madras is a remarkable testimony to British enterprise,
energy, and perseverance, and also to Indian appreciation of the
new-comers and of their methods; and it is a matter of satisfaction
that many illustrious Indians have played an energetic and conspicuous
part in the development of the city and the promotion of its welfare.
In many respects the conditions were altogether unfavorable for the
foundation of a maritime city. There was no natural harbour, and the
breakers beat continually on the shore; and the so-called river was of
little practical use. The nearest Indian towns were a good many miles
away, and the Portuguese merchants in the neighbouring settlement of
Mylapore were commercial rivals, who might have been supposed to have
absorbed all the trade that was to be had. Yet Madras is now a large
city, with more than half a million inhabitants; and its commerce and
its industries have been so successful that its population is still
increasing rapidly. Houses are being built everywhere, yet the demand
increases. Not only are the suburbs being extended, but moreover the
gardens of existing houses are being everywhere divided, so as to
provide further building-sites; and two houses or more now stand
within grounds that were formerly occupied by only one.

But it is well for Madras that, except in respect of some of its
streets and particular localities, it is not a crowded city, and that
there is therefore room for such additions. Madras has been called the
'City of Distances,' and it still deserves the name; for within its
limits there are some magnificent spaces, and in the garden of many a
private house the resident can sit of an evening and imagine himself
in a rural retreat, far from the m