s are fruit trees.
From this we came to a mountain pass which reminded me strongly of
Borradaile, near Derwentwater, and through this defile we struck into
the road, and rejoined the bearers."

And so he went forward on his way, recalling at every step the
reminiscence of some place, or event, or person; and, thereby, doubling
for himself, and perhaps for his correspondent, the pleasure which
the reality was capable of affording. If he put up at a collector's
bungalow, he liked to think that his host ruled more absolutely and over
a larger population than "a Duke of Saxe-Weimar or a Duke of Lucca;"
and, when he came across a military man with a turn for reading, he
pronounced him "as Dominic Sampson said of another Indian Colonel, 'a
man of great erudition, considering his imperfect opportunities.'"

On the 19th of June he crossed the frontier of Mysore; reached Bangalore
on the morning of the 20th and rested there for three days in the house
of the Commandant.

"On Monday, the 23rd, I took leave of Colonel Cubbon, who told me,
with a warmth which I was vain enough to think sincere, that he had not
passed three such pleasant days for thirty years. I went on all night,
sleeping soundly in my palanquin. At five I was waked, and found that a
carriage was waiting for me. I had told Colonel Cubbon that I very much
wished to see Seringapatam. He had written to the British authorities at
the town of Mysore, and an officer had come from the Residency to show
me all that was to be seen. I must now digress into Indian politics;
and let me tell you that, if you read the little that I shall say about
them, you will know more on the subject than half the members of the
Cabinet."

After a few pages occupied by a sketch of the history of Mysore during
the preceding century, Macaulay proceeds

"Seringapatam has always been a place of peculiar interest to me. It was
the scene of the greatest events of Indian history. It was the residence
of the greatest of Indian princes. From a child, I used to hear it
talked of every day. Our uncle Colin was imprisoned there for four
years, and he was afterwards distinguished at the siege. I remember
that there was, in a shop-window at Clapham, a daub of the taking
of Seringapatam, which, as a boy, I often used to stare at with the
greatest interest. I was delighted to have an opportunity of seeing
the place; and, though my expectations were high, they were not
disappointed.

"The town is depo