On the following morning I proceeded to cross the river by the bridges over the rapids. The first rapid is that of the Rajah Fall, the water of which shoots sheer from the cliff, and, without even touching a rock, falls 830 feet into a pool 132 feet deep. After crossing the bridge you sometimes walk through, and sometimes clamber over, the vast assemblage of rocks and huge boulders which form the bed of the river, and are deeply submerged when the river is full. The sight here is extremely curious and interesting as, after leaving the bridge of the Rajah rapid, there are about 1,000 feet of rock and boulders to pass through or over before you reach the next rapid, and, when half way, there would be nothing to show that you were not wandering through a mere wilderness of rocks were it not for the unceasing thunder, far below, from the bottom of the Rajah Fall. The next rapid to be crossed is that of the Roarer, which takes, before it goes over the precipice a most singular course—first flowing into a basin at the edge of the cliff, and then leaving this in a northerly direction, after which it rushes down a steep stony trough to fall into the same deep pool which receives the water of the Rajah Fall. After crossing the bridge of the Roarer rapid the bed of the river has again to be traversed and at a distance of about 700 feet you reach the rapid of the Rocket. This is a fall of wonderful beauty, for the water projects itself sheer from the cliff to fall about 100 feet on to a vast projecting piece, or rather buttress of rock, which causes the water to shoot out into a rocket-like course from which are thrown off wonderfully beautiful jets, and arrowy shoots of water, and spray, and foam, which seem to resemble falling stars or shooting meteors. You then pass over another section of the river bed for about 500 feet till you reach the rapid, or rather stream, of the la Dame Blanche Fall which glides gently over the precipice in a broad foaming silvery sheet. From the first rapid to the last the distance is about 733 yards. I have met with no estimate of the total width of the fall when the river is in full flood, but it can hardly be less than half a mile wide, and the depth of the water, as one can see from the high water mark, must be very great. It is interesting to note on the tops of the boulders here and there the circular stones that have, during each monsoon, been whirling round and round, each one in its own pothole.

After crossing the last bridge you then walk over the rocks into the forest beyond and strike the path which leads down through the forest on the Mysore side of the river, to a point called Watkin's platform—an open-sided shed about 100 feet below the top of the falls, and which commands a view of the gorge below the falls, and a fair, though rather distant view of the falls. When approaching the platform I was positively startled by a vast shrieking clang which suddenly burst on the ear and seemed to fill the air. This I afterwards found had come from the semi-cavernous gorge of rock about half a mile away, into which fall the waters of the Rajah and Roarer rapids, and though I afterwards heard somewhat similar sounds issuing from these falls, I never heard again anything approaching to this singular and startling burst of sound. These sounds have often been remarked upon, but no one seems to have attempted to trace their cause, but they most probably arise from the escape of air which has been driven by the falling waters into some deep fissures of the rock.

Having thus taken a general view of the situation, I then returned to the bungalow for breakfast, and in the afternoon at about two o'clock returned to Watkin's platform by the route of the ferry across the pool, and, with my companion, set out for the foot of the falls, first of all by a steep winding path, and then by a flight of very rough and uneven steps which had been formed by placing stones in places on and between the rocks. When descending, we often paused to view the constantly changing scene, for, as we got lower and lower, the rainbow hues across each fall, which were at first widely broken by the masses of cliff stretching between the falls, came closer and closer, till at last, when we reached the region where the spray of all the falls was mingled, the iris hues stretched across the gorge in an unbroken band of colour. At length, as we neared the foot of the fall, we reached a small open-sided shed, which had recently been erected on the occasion of the Maharajah of Mysore's visit. From this, which was probably fifty feet from the bottom of the gorge and about 100 yards from the falls, an admirable view was obtained of the entire situation, and we began to realize how impossible it is to form any adequate conception of the falls from the top, or from the higher sides of the gorge. We next descended to the bottom of the gorge, where the ground is strewn with vast boulders of rock, which had evidently fallen from the cliff as it had been eaten back by waters toiling through countless bygone ages. Many of these masses of rock lie at some distance from the foot of the falls, and on the partially decayed surfaces of some of them vegetation had evidently been flourishing for an indefinite period of time. Huge masses of rocks and boulders, as you look down the river, seem almost to block up its route towards the western sea, and indeed so completely seem to fill up the pass, that one seemed to be standing at the bottom of a rock-bound hollow which had been excavated by the agency of Nature, after a toil through periods of time far beyond the calculations of man.

As I found that the rocks at the foot of the falls were covered with a slimy mud, and as I was suffering slightly from a damaged foot, I presently returned to the shed, while my companion proceeded to explore the bed of the gorge further down the river. The floor of the shed had been strewed with straw, and I lay down at full length, partly to rest and partly to examine the situation more minutely, for the height is so great that it is impossible adequately to survey the scene in any other position. And then, when you have stillness and solitude, and when the body is in complete repose, there pour in on eye and ear floods of impressions so quickly varying that the mind feels quite unable to record them, and there is finally nothing left behind but a vague and indescribable sensation of all that is grand and beautiful and melodious in nature. For there are vast heights and gloomy depths and recesses, and varied forms of falling waters, and in the general surroundings everything to convey exalted ideas of grandeur to the mind, but grandeur accompanied by exquisite beauty, in colour, in the graceful movement of animal life, and in the varying sounds of falling waters—the charm of the iris hues which ever beautify the falling waters—beauty in the varied colours of the rocks, and in the plants and ferns growing in the fissures of the cliff—beauty in exquisite forms of motion—of water varied in countless ways as it descends from the four separate falls—beauty in the unceasing movements of countless swallows, mingled here and there with specimens of the Alpine swift and the pretty blue-hued rock pigeons, which build their nests on the ledges of the cliffs, and are constantly to be seen flying across the falls. Then there are the unceasing and ever varying sounds of falling waters, grand in their totality, grand and melodious in their separate cadences—the deep bass of the Rajah, sometimes like cannon thundering in the distance, and sometimes like the regular tolling of some vast Titanic bell; sounds of most varied and brilliant music from the Rocket; the jagged note of the Roarer, as its waters rush down their steep, stony trough; the eerie and mysterious sounds which, sometimes like a mingling of startling shrieks and clangs, and sometimes, to the active imagination, like the far-off lamentations of imprisoned spirits,[9] occasionally rise from the semi-cavernous chasm which has been hollowed out behind the great pool beneath the cliff; the gentle murmuring note of the White Lady Fall, tangled threads of sound from which fall in fitful cadences on the ear as the wind rises and falls athwart the falls; and lastly, but by no means leastly, the undulating and endless varieties of sounds which, having broken away from their original source, are ever wandering and echoing around the rock-bound gorge. Beautiful indeed and altogether indescribable are the elements of melody which are created by the falling waters of the Arrowborn river!

And the music, too, seemed to be for ever varying, for the choral odes which were sweetly chanted to the ear were not perpetually continuous, and at times, owing to some change in the direction of the wind as it swirled around the gorge, the choral element was subordinated to the deep thunder of the Rajah Fall, or the vague tumult of startling discords which arose at intervals from the semi-cavernous walls of the pool into which plunge the waters of the Rajah and Roarer Falls. And then these sounds would gradually lose their predominance, and the more uniform sounds in which all the four falls joined would once more fill the air and charm the ear. And thus the attention could never be lulled to sleep, for here monotony was not, and the mind was always kept in an attitude of expectancy for the variations in the music which were sure to come, and, so far as they reached the ear, were never the same combinations of sounds that had been heard before. All the elements of melody were here, indeed, in profuse abundance, and it seemed as if they only required to be caught by some master hand and strung into methodical musical combinations to yield to the mind and feelings those exquisite sensations which music alone can in any effective degree convey.

And besides the effects we have noticed, there is the motion of colour constantly, though gradually, shifting and altering, for, as the sun declines, the rainbow hues move steadily upwards on the face of the falls, and the colours of the rocks, which are of varying shades of purple and yellow, continually alter in character with the sinking day. But the finest combined effects of beauty and grandeur are, perhaps, most fully felt when, late in the afternoon, the eye wanders delighted over the vast combination of lofty cliffs and falling waters to rest finally far above on the iris tints of the Rajah and Roarer Falls, through the colours of which myriads of swallows incessantly wheel on lightsome wing, mingled with the quick, darting movement of the Alpine swifts, and the gentle flight of the blue rock pigeons, which occasionally wing their way through the mazy throng. For there the eye is ever delighted with the charm of colour and of those endless variations of graceful movement which continuously convey pleasurable sensations to the mind. But how could eye or ear ever tire of those rare combinations of form, colour, motion and rhythmic sounds which fill the mind with an exalted sense of feeling and of pleasure, and the conscious heart with exquisite sensations far beyond the power of language to describe?

Presently my companion returned and aroused me from my state of dreamy pleasure, and I turned reluctantly away from the scene as the rainbow colours were, with the sinking sun, beginning to disappear from the topmost heights of the falls.

Delightful indeed were the brilliant and varied scenes I have been attempting to describe, and after them the remainder was by comparison tame, but still I found that, as I took a canoe the following evening and rowed up the forest-margined pool from which the rapids emerge, that the minor scenes at the falls have exquisite charms of their own. And then it was that I realized that, varying though the scale may be, there is everywhere about the falls the same beauty of detail and beauty of combined effect, and that, too, unaccompanied by a single jarring note. For nowhere can you say, as you can often say in viewing scenes elsewhere, "leave out this, or alter that, and the scene would be perfect," and in none of the scenes about the falls does anything poor, or base, or mean, or uninteresting strike the eye, and as I rowed slowly up the pool I felt that the mind was both charmed and soothed by the exquisite repose of the scene, which is only broken, if indeed it can be said to be broken, by the beautiful birds and gaily painted kingfishers which occasionally wing their way across the water, or flit along the margin of the forest-clad shore. As you look towards the West the eye wanders over the wild assemblage of water-worn rocks and boulders which intervene between the pool and the head of the falls, to rest finally on the distant hills, covered mostly to their tips with the evergreen forest, while on looking up the river you see that it is flanked by woods on either hand, and as you lose sight of the water as it bends towards the south, the eye glances upwards to hills of moderate height, wooded in the hollows, and showing on the ridges grassy vistas dotted with occasional trees.

On returning, I went lower down in the pool than the point I had started at, and passed a number of rocks worn into all sorts of curious shapes, and one of these leaned, like some gigantic Saurian, over the flood. As we neared the rapids, one felt that one would by no means like to run any risk of being drawn into one of them, and I was by no means anxious to go nearer to them than the boatmen, wished. One of them told me that the natives sometimes descended the cliffs between the Roarer and the Rocket Falls in order to carry off the fledglings from the nests of the blue rock pigeons, and said that several lives had thus been lost. He said that there was no way of reaching the bottom of the cliff, and rather quaintly added, "Those who came up again came up, and those who did not, died." He said that some European had once put what was evidently dynamite into the pool. A great explosion followed, which killed a large number of fish, many of which were washed over the falls.

In the evening I sat for a long time in the bungalow veranda smoking my cigar, and looking dreamily out at the moonlit falls, and observing from time to time the scenic changes that were produced by the great masses of mist which drifted up the gorge below me to be dispersed as they touched the cliffs, and presenting, as they did so, most charming pictures. In the morning, too, beautiful effects were to be seen, as masses of mist arose from the chasm of the Rajah to flit in fleecy fragments across the face of the falls. But the scenes about this spot are of endless variety, and I must allow myself to mention only one more, which my companion saw one morning from Watkin's platform when the iris hues were on the pool below the falls, which, as the spray fell into it, seemed like a mass of golden water dotted all over, as if yellow tinted rain were falling into it. On some occasions visitors have illuminated the falls with fireworks, and by floating over the falls ignited bundles of straw soaked in paraffin, and I regret that I had not thought of following their example.

Next morning I set out on a drive of about 150 miles to my plantations in Manjarabad. As we left the falls, we passed, and close to the river pool above them, a tree covered with fruit which was being eaten by green pigeons and other birds, and on looking up into it I was surprised, as it is an animal of nocturnal habits, to see a large and beautiful flying squirrel peering at me with a quiet but by no means apprehensive eye. I was strongly tempted to shoot it for the sake of its skin, but my companion, who had been much affected by the beauties of the falls, said that it would be a sacrilege to shoot anything so near them. So I spared his feelings and the poor squirrel, and am now very glad to think that I did so. I may here mention that the traveller, though he sets out early in the morning and late in the afternoon, very rarely sees anything in the shape of big game, even though the jungles he may be driving through may abound with it, and the sole exception I can remember, after numerous journeys through them, occurred on the occasion of my drive home from the falls, when, early one morning, a tiger bounded across the road at a distance of about 100 yards ahead. It is also worthy of remark that you very seldom see a snake, and, though I landed on the Western coast at Carwar and travelled by easy stages by way of the falls to my estate, I did not see a single snake during the whole course of the journey.

As it is probable that this account of the Gairsoppa Falls may induce travellers to visit them, I think it may be useful to give an account of the Cauvery Falls on the southern frontier of Mysore, which are well worthy of a visit, and easily accessible. The best time for visiting them is generally said to be August, or not later than the middle of September, though when I visited them on the 25th of that month last year, the river, though not in full flood, had an ample supply of water in it, and, from Mr. Bowring's description of his visit to them on November 21st,[10] there must still, up to that date, be a considerable flow in the river. From my own experience, I feel sure that the best time to see these falls is after the great floods have subsided, as the water then is clear, or nearly so, and the effects, as in the case of the Gairsoppa Falls, are far more varied and brilliant. There is one point I would here particularly impress on the traveller, and that is, that when visiting falls such as those of Gairsoppa and the Cauvery, which present a great variety of scenic effects, and are not merely monotonous single masses of water, he should devote at least two clear days to them, i.e., he should arrive on one day, remain two days, and leave on the fourth day. He should also select a time when there is a sufficiency of moonlight. I was particularly impressed with the first point, because I most thoroughly enjoyed my visit to Gairsoppa as I had two clear days there, whereas my visit to the Cauvery Falls was attended with that sense of hurry which, if not destructive of all enjoyment, leaves behind on the mind a feeling that many points in the scenes must have been either missed or quite inadequately observed. The account of my visit to these falls, however, may at least be useful in showing a traveller short of time how to visit them with the least possible expenditure of it.

I left Bangalore, then, on the morning of Thursday, September 24th, 1891, by the 8.20 a.m. train, for the Mudoor Railway Station, on the lino to Mysore city, and arrived there shortly after midday. I then had luncheon at the station, and left for the Malvalli Travellers' Bungalow at a little before three, in a carriage I had sent on from Bangalore with two pairs of horses (it is advisable to have an extra pair posted), and arrived at my destination shortly after five. To this bungalow, which is about fourteen miles from the falls, I had previously sent on with my native servants bedding and mosquito curtains, and the means necessary to prepare meals for the party. Reports had reached us of creeping things being abroad in this bungalow, and my servant had been particularly enjoined to look out for, and, as far as possible, guard against them. This he had done by putting the bedsteads in the sun and doing what further he could. But notwithstanding his assurances of safety, one of the ladies of the party insisted that, from all she had heard, there must be creeping things somewhere about. The servant listened with an air of respectful attention to all she had to say, and, when she had quite done, said with quiet persistence, and much to our amusement, "What Missus says is true, but there are no bugs," and I am glad to say that he was justified in making the assertion. We rose very early the following morning, started at 4.20, at 6.20 arrived at the bungalow near the falls, and, after a little delay to get a cup of tea, drove at once to the nearest fall. But I must here pause for a few moments to describe the general situation of the river, the islands formed by its splitting into two distinct branches, and the position of the fall—a total situation which is not easily comprehended without the aid of a map.

The Cauvery Falls are on the river of that name, which rises in Coorg, and, after a run of 646 miles to the south-east, falls into the Bay of Bengal about midway between Madras and Cape Comorin. Before reaching Seringapatam (which is on an island in the river) it is joined by the Hemavati which rises to the north of Manjarabad and, as we have seen, skirts the eastern border of that talook, or county. As the Hemavati sends down a large body of water the source of which is more distant from the sea than the spot in Coorg which is called the head of the Cauvery, I may remark in passing that it is singular that the latter should have been regarded as the source of this fine river, which really rises in Mysore. But, rise where it may, it at last arrives at a point on the southern frontier of Mysore where the bed of the Cauvery splits into two channels and forms the island of Hegora, which is about three miles long, and from a quarter of a mile to a mile wide, and, by a rather curious, coincidence, almost exactly the size of the island on which the fortress of Seringapatam has been built. The northern branch of the river washes the Mysore frontier and this, after about two miles, again divides, or rather a small branch diverges to the north and, forming a loop, cuts away from the mainland the island of Ettikoor, and there falls into the northern branch of the river by various cascades, and just below the point where the falls on the main northern branch occur. This group of falls is called Gangana Chuckee.

The southern branch of the river on the Madras side flows as a single stream for about half a mile, and then splits off some of its water into various channels, but forming nothing worthy of the name of an island till it severs from the mainland the island of Hegora, a strip of land about two furlongs at the widest, and less than a mile in length. To the south of this the main body of the water goes to form lower down the fine series of cascades and falls called the Bar Chuckee, while a comparatively small body of water goes to the left to form the pretty series of cascades and steep runnels of water which fall, though at a different point of the compass from the main falls, into the wide pool at the foot of the Bar Chuckee Falls. After this necessary digression I now proceed to narrate what I saw and did.

I drove, then, after a short delay at the bungalow, to the Gangana Chuckee Falls, passing on the way the temple of Sivasamudrum, and various buildings connected with it, and leaving the carriage, walked down towards the falls, passing on the right Pir's Tomb, the grave of a Mahometan priest of that name, and went to a point just below it, from which a fine general view of these falls and the river can be obtained. Glancing upwards, the view of the river, as the waters race down their steep stony bed towards the falls amidst numerous projecting rocks, is extremely grand and picturesque. Then at a point just below the spot I was standing on, the water plunged down a nearly precipitous descent, from which it apparently (for the spray prevented one seeing exactly) fell perpendicularly into the pool below, sending up as it did so gossamer veils of spray full of fleeting, faint, and ever varying iris hues. This pool is flanked, and probably about 100 yards below the foot of the previously mentioned fall, on the northern side by a precipice about 250 feet high, down which, in four separate cascades, falls the water of the branch of the river which cuts off the small island of Ettikoor. On the side of the precipice next to the great fall of the main river stands a piece of tree-clad rocky ground, apparently about 50 feet higher than the precipice, and this is flanked by a rapid at the top, passing into a cascade lower down, which then held but little water, but which in floods must add much to the beauty of the scene. After viewing the scene for sometime, I returned to the carriage, and drove across the island to visit the Bar Chuckee Falls, and left the carriage at a point where the road begins to descend into the valley into which the southern branch of the river precipitates itself. I then advanced to a point on the right of the road from which a fine general view can be obtained, though it is rather too distant as regards the main body of the falls, and, as I reached the point in question, came suddenly into view of such a number of separate falls and cascades that a description of them is extremely difficult. For, on the opposite side of the valley, I counted no less than thirteen, which leap partly over one side of a horseshoe shaped precipice which had evidently, from the huge boulders in the channel below, been eaten back into the side of the precipice, and partly shoot out through various hidden channels which the waters have deeply cut through a huge semicircular platform of rock which overhangs the valley below. As they thus shoot out the effect is extremely striking and picturesque, and their resemblance to the spokes of light from a star no doubt caused the natives to give the very appropriate name of Chuckee (pronounced Chickee—Kanarese for star) to these beautiful falls. This semicircular platform of rock stands on one side of the river-bed, next to this we have the horseshoe-shaped precipice I have mentioned, and next to that again, as it were by way of quietly beautiful contrast, there is a vast sheet of steeply sloping rock, which is completely covered by a thin coating of white, and everywhere foaming water. When the river is at the full this fine series of falls and cascades vanishes, and is replaced, as in the case of the falls at Gairsoppa, by one great fall about half a mile wide.

After looking at this beautiful scene, the eye wanders next over some jungle-clad slopes on the western side of the main falls, to dwell on a series of cascades and racing waters which descend through channels flanked on either side by scrubby plants and trees—a series which arises from a branch which diverges about a mile higher up the river, and the cascades and runnels of water of which are scattered round precipitous slopes right up to, and immediately below, the point on which I was standing. All the falls and cascades unite in a pool below of great width, from which the water escapes through a narrow gorge, to join, further down, the river branch on which are the Gangana Chuckee Falls. The general effect here appears to be that you are looking at falls and cascades proceeding from two different rivers, the one flowing from the south and the other from the west, and the effect is the same at the first described falls. The general height of all the falls is said to be from 200 to 250 feet, and in Mr. Bowring's "Eastern Experiences" 300 feet, but I can find no account, and could hear of no particulars, as to when or how measurements were taken, as in the case of the falls at Gairsoppa, which were carefully surveyed by officers of the Indian Navy. I was particularly struck with the absence of bird life at these falls, and only saw two small birds, and one hawk, and a small flight of what in the distance appeared to be pigeons, which alit on a rock at the foot of one of the falls.

It is impossible to refrain from contrasting these falls with those at Gairsoppa. The Cauvery Falls have indeed much beauty and grandeur in river, and varied waterfall scenery, and had I not seen the Gairsoppa Falls I should have thought that it would have been difficult to find anywhere in the world scenes more varied and beautiful. But the beauties of the falls of Cauvery are set in comparatively speaking sterile surroundings of rock and scrubby jungle, trees and shrubs scattered over ground partly undulating, and partly over hills of moderate height and uninteresting form. Then the grandeur arising from their great height, and the charms of the varied sounds of the falls of Gairsoppa, and the marvellously beautiful effects of graceful bird life wheeling and darting amidst the iris hues of the falls, and the setting of the whole scene amidst the tropical wealth of the evergreen forest of the Western Ghauts, afford combinations which far exceed those of the Cauvery Falls. I have no hesitation in saying, as a traveller to the falls of Gairsoppa has said before, that they alone would repay one for all the trouble of the voyage to India. But, beautiful and grand as they undoubtedly are, I cannot quite say the same of the Cauvery falls, though I can with confidence say that if the traveller leaves India without seeing them he will certainly have missed one of the scenes best worth seeing in it.

After spending some time at the Bar Chuckee Falls I then drove back to the bungalow and, leaving the carriage there, walked rather more than half a mile to the bridge which connects the island with the Madras side of the river, and which I closely examined, as it is a most curious and interesting specimen of the work of native engineers, and as it has withstood the floods of about seventy years, one of which passed over the roadway of the bridge to a depth of three feet, is most highly creditable to native workmanship. A similar bridge connects the island with the Mysore side of the river, and both bridges were repaired at his own cost by a native in the employ of the Mysore Government, who in recognition of this important work, received from the British Government, for himself and his heirs (who are bound to keep up the bridges) land yielding an annual revenue of L800, and of L900 from the Mysore Government.

The bridge I now proceeded to examine. It is built entirely of stone without any mortar or cement, and is supported on two rows of single block stone pillars standing on slabs of stone placed on the river bed. Those pillars are about nine feet high and eight feet apart. On the top of each pillar is first of all a thick block of stone projecting about eighteen inches from the pillar on its upper and lower sides. Then on this was a rather thicker block of stone, and on the top of all cross beams of solid single stones had been laid, and from one cross beam to another were solid and closely put together slabs of stones, some of which were eighteen inches wide, and some rather wider, thus making a roadway above so narrow that two carriages cannot pass each other. In order to strengthen the pillars and keep them in position, a flat slab of stone had been laid on the bed of the river, from the base of the lower pillar to within about two feet of the upper one, and between the end of this slab and the pillar a thick, high block of stone had been wedged. In this bridge there were 109 pairs of pillars, giving a total length of about 1,000 feet. I was struck with the difference in the age of the pillars, and with the fact that, whereas some were plain, roughly hewn pillars, others, which had been dressed and chiselled into various forms, were evidently of great antiquity, and I was subsequently informed by the clerk of the proprietor of the island that the latter had been procured from ruined temples in the neighbourhood. These bridges at first sight seem to be curved in a slight loop up the stream, but a closer examination shows that they have been built in several lines, first slightly up the stream and then advancing by several straight lines to a blunt arrow-like point in the centre of the river, and this was evidently to enable the bridges the better to resist the heavy floods, one of which, as I have previously mentioned, went no less than three feet over the roadway. As you stand on the edge of the river and look along the centre of the rows of pillars the effect is very curious, as they then present the appearance of a long colonnade of pillars of various shapes, with a flat roof of solid slabs of stone overhead.

After thoroughly inspecting the bridge, I lay for some time in the shade of a tree which stood on the bank of the river about fifty yards below the bridge, and awaited the arrival of the carriage, which I had sent for as the day was getting hot, and as I thus lay languidly observing the long colonnade, and the water which rapidly flowed between the pillars, and looked up the river as it stretched away to the north-west, and enjoyed the cool air which gently moved along the water, I felt a quiet sense of enjoyment which gave me a greater, and certainly a more lasting, sense of pleasure than I had experienced when visiting the beautiful falls I have just endeavoured to describe. I mention this for the moral, which is, that to enjoy scenery the body must be comfortable and in complete repose. I would also add that you must be alone, or practically alone, by being out of sight or hearing of your companions. Presently I was aroused by the rumble of the carriage, and, collecting my party, returned to the bungalow for luncheon. At about half past four the carriage was brought round, and we drove to our temporary home to dinner, and on the following day reached Bangalore at two o'clock, the whole trip having thus occupied about sixty hours.

FOOTNOTES:

[4] No less than 291.53 inches fell this year, between April and the last day of September, at a Cardamom plantation on the crests of the Ghauts.

[5] After the fall of Seringapatam some further military operations were necessary in Manjarabad, and some of Colonel Wellesley's letters were written within a few miles of my bungalow.

[6] So called from its flowing from a source which was supposed to have been formed by a stroke of Rama's arrow.

[7] All travellers are obliged to record their names in these books, and state the time they have stayed, and the sums they have paid for the use of the bungalow.

[8] "Gazetteer of the Bombay Presidency," vol. xv. Kanara, Bombay. Printed at the Government Central Press, 1883.

[9] The native idea.

[10] "Eastern Experiences," by L. Bowring, C.S.I.; Henry S. King and Co., London, 1871. Before visiting Mysore the traveller should certainly buy or consult this book.



CHAPTER III.

MYSORE—ITS HISTORY, GOVERNMENT, AND REPRESENTATIVE ASSEMBLY.

In my last chapter I gave a description of Mysore and its waterfalls. In the present chapter I purpose very briefly remarking on its history, government, and representative assembly, and shall conclude by contrasting the last with the so-called National Indian Congress.

In his Report of December, 1804, the Acting Resident of Mysore, Colonel Mark Wilks, observed that "the territories composing the present dominion of His Highness the Rajah of Mysore had, from the remotest periods of tradition, been held by a number of polygars and petty Rajahs, whose possessions were incessantly enlarged, diminished, or alienated, by a series of revolutions which it would perhaps be impossible to trace, and unprofitable to describe," and it is interesting to note how little, at that time, seems to have been known about the history of the kingdoms we conquered. But all doubts as to the early history of Mysore have now been removed, and the reader will find in Mr. Rice's admirable gazetteer of Mysore a minute history of the country accompanied by coloured maps which show at a glance the numerous transitions which the territories now comprised under the head of Mysore have undergone in former times, but as I think that it would certainly be unprofitable to describe these transitions here I shall content myself with a bare enumeration of those leading facts which are necessary for a general comprehension of the situation. All, then, that the reader requires to know is, that a line of Hindoo Rajahs which once reigned over a very limited portion of Mysore gradually acquired about half of it; that a descendant of their line was set aside by the Mahometan usurper Hyder Ali (an able soldier of fortune, who had risen to the chief command of the army); that he conquered the remainder of the present territory and ruled it from 1761 to 1782; and that after his death he was succeeded by his son Sultan Tippoo, who on May 4th, 1799, lost his life at Seringapatam, and with it all the territories acquired by his father, thereby fulfilling what Hyder Ali said when he observed to his son one day, "I was born to win and you were born to lose an empire." The subsequent history of the province is soon told. After the fall of Seringapatam it was resolved to place a descendant of the old Hindoo line on the throne, and Krishna Rajah Wodeyar—then about five years old, became Maharajah of Mysore, with Purnaiya (formerly prime minister of Tippoo) as Dewan and Regent, and Colonel (afterwards Sir Barry) Close as Resident, while Colonel Arthur Wellesley (afterwards Duke of Wellington) commanded the division. Under the new Government all at first went well, and in 1804 the Governor-General declared that during the past five years "the affairs of the Government of Mysore had been conducted with a degree of regularity, wisdom, discretion and justice unparalleled in any native state in India." But, unfortunately for himself and his subjects, the Maharajah, in 1811, began to rule, and Purnaiya, the able prime minister, retired, and soon afterwards died. Then followed a long period of misgovernment, which culminated in the insurrection of 1830, to put down which the aid of British troops had to be called in. A formal inquiry was then made by the British Government, and the result of this was that it was determined to transfer the entire administration to British officers, and put the Maharajah on an allowance for his personal expenditure. At first two commissioners were appointed to administer the government, but this was found to be inconvenient, and in April, 1834, Colonel (afterwards Sir Mark) Cubbon was appointed as sole commissioner for the province. He occupied the post till February, 1861, when he retired, and when on his way home died at Suez at about seventy-seven years of age, having spent the whole of the previous years of the century in India. He was succeeded by other able commissioners, and nothing of any political importance happened in the province till June, 1865, when the Maharajah adopted as his heir a scion of one of the leading families of his house. It was for some time doubtful whether the Government would recognize the adoption, as, after the death of the Maharajah, it had been generally assumed that the province would be annexed, but in April, 1867, the Home Government decided that it should be recognized, and on September 23rd, 1868, six months after the death of Krishna Rajah, his adopted son, Chama Rajendra Wodeyar Bahadur, at that time between five and six years old, was duly installed at Mysore, and it was then decided that the country should remain under British administration till the Maharajah came of age. His Highness attained his majority at the age of eighteen, on the 5th of March, 1881, and was formally installed on the throne on the 25th of that month, and thus the province, after having been directly administered by the British for almost exactly fifty years, was handed over, not as we shall afterwards see, to native rule, but to native administration.

And here a rather interesting question naturally arises. How was such a change—one quite unique in the history of India—received by the inhabitants of the country? So far as the planters (of whom I am one of the oldest, having settled in the province in 1855) are concerned, I do not think they have been in the slightest degree affected. They were all well satisfied with the English administration, and I think they are equally well satisfied with the present native administration. In fact, there is no change perceptible, except that the criminal administration, has somewhat fallen off, and it certainly has been occasionally found that an answer from a native official sometimes resembles death—you think it is never coming and then it comes when least expected. But I must confess that, as regards answers to communications, I have heard of similar complaints made by the former Mysore Government against the Supreme Government, and of a like complaint made by the latter against the Home Government. But, though the change was regarded with indifference by the settlers in the province, and was indeed of obvious advantage to them, as there is no income-tax, and the finances are flourishing, it was not at all acceptable to the native population in general, and the native officials were quite aware that the new administration was not popular. I made frequent inquiries as to the cause of this, not only from natives in my own neighbourhood, but from those I met when travelling by easy stages from the Gairsoppa Falls in the north-western corner of the province to my estates in Southern Mysore, and found that the universal complaint was that there was a want of Daryapti, or active inquiry into grievances, and one of my old native neighbours was loud in his praises of the palmy days of Sir Mark Cubbon. I confess, however, that though there may have been some grounds for complaint as regards "inquiry," owing to the greater zeal and personal activity of Englishmen, I do not think that there were any real grounds for dissatisfaction, and feel sure that the unpopularity of the new administration was owing partly to the fact of the country, at the time of the rendition, not being in a very prosperous condition, partly to the strong conservative instincts of the natives, and partly, perhaps, to their being under some apprehension that the abuses of the old native government might possibly be revived. But, however that may be, from inquiries made when last in India, and especially from the absence of any reference to the subject in the many conversations I had with natives of all classes, I believe that the unpopularity of the new administration, which at first undoubtedly existed, has now quite passed away.

It may be as well to mention here that, though the administration is now a native one, there are still, in the Mysore service, about thirty-five Englishmen in the various departments of the State, and that the most friendly relations exist between them and the native officials. I feel sure, too, that the value of an admixture of Englishmen in the administration is fully recognized by the native officials. As regards brain power they equal Englishmen, and indeed are often superior to them, but the classes from which the native officials are mainly drawn are, as a rule, deficient in that physical vigour which is required for executive work, as one of the native officials, who himself was an exception to the rule, once told me, "and therefore," he added, "we must have an admixture of natives and Europeans in the service." I must, however, observe that, though his remark is true as regards the Brahminical classes from which the officials are mainly taken, I think it probable that, when education spreads, there will ultimately be found amongst the hardy peasantry of Mysore a fair proportion of individuals who will have a sufficient degree of physical vigour for executive work. In confirmation of the remark I have made as to the want of executive vigour on the part of native officials, a defect which would be equally apparent in us were our energy not kept up by fresh importations from home, I may mention that, under the new regime, there has been a distinct falling off in the up-keep of roads, and in the detection of crime.

In connection with this subject I may make a passing remark on a point which has not hitherto been noticed, so far as I am aware, by previous writers. It has constantly been asserted by natives that we have not kept faith with them as regards opening to them many appointments in the public service which are at present reserved for Englishmen. I would call attention to the fact that one of the passages so often quoted contains really no general promise of employment. This passage—taken from a clause in the East India Act, passed in Parliament, 1833—merely says "That no native of the said territories, nor any natural born subject of his majesty resident therein, shall by reason only of his religion, place of birth, descent, colour, or any of them, be disabled from holding any place, office, or employment under the said company." "By reason only." Yes, but this does not bar disqualification for other reasons, as for instance the want of physical vigour to which I have alluded. Then mark the careful limitation contained in the often quoted passage from the Queen's proclamation of 1858, which sets forth that "It is our further will, that, as far as may be, our subjects, of whatever race or creed, be freely and impartially admitted to office in our service, the duties of which they may be qualified, by their education, ability and integrity, duly to discharge." But natives have not, generally speaking, the ability to discharge executive duties requiring much physical vigour, and no one is more ready to admit that than the best among the natives. But besides executive efficiency there is the fact that the mere sight of the zeal, energy, and general interest in progress exhibited by the English is to the natives around them an education worth all the book instruction we have imported into India. We cannot have too much of this leavening element, and the effects of it are everywhere apparent. It is extremely striking in the coffee districts, where many native planters have been, much improved as regards go, and a desire to adopt improvements, since Europeans have settled more freely amongst them.

But it is time now to turn to the subject of the constitution of Mysore—a subject which, I need hardly say, is of the greatest practical importance to those who hold, or may think of acquiring, property in the province.

The Instrument of Transfer, then, as it is officially called, by which Mysore was made over to native administration on the 25th of March, 1881, begins by declaring the installation of the Maharajah and his power to rule under certain general conditions, which are—(1) That the Maharajah and those who are to succeed him in the manner hereinafter provided, are to hold possession of and administer the province as long as they fulfil the conditions laid down in the Instrument of Transfer; that (2) the succession should devolve on the Maharajah's lineal descendant, whether by blood or adoption, except in the case of disqualification through manifest unfitness to rule; and that (3) the Maharajah and his successors shall at all times remain faithful in allegiance and subordination to the British Crown, and perform all the duties which, in virtue of such allegiance and subordination, may be demanded of them. Then follow clauses with reference to the subsidy to be paid to the British Government for protecting and defending the province, military stipulations, foreign relations, coinage, railways and telegraphs, and extradition, and as regards the last, it is declared that plenary jurisdiction over European British subjects in Mysore shall continue to be invested in the Governor-General in Council, and that the Maharajah of Mysore shall only exercise such jurisdiction in respect to European British subjects as may from time to time be delegated to him by the Viceroy. Then with reference to "Laws and Settlements," it is declared that those in existence at the time of the transfer must be maintained, and that the Maharajah of Mysore "shall not repeal or modify such laws, or pass any laws or rules inconsistent therewith," and that no material change in the system of administration as established previous to the date of the transfer shall be made without the consent of the Viceroy. And finally, under this head, it is declared that all title-deeds granted, and all settlements of land revenues in force on March 25th, 1881 (the date of the transfer), shall be maintained, excepting so far as they may be rescinded or modified either by a competent court of law or with the consent of the Governor-General in Council. Lastly, under the heading of "British Relations," it is declared that "the Maharajah of Mysore shall at all times conform to such advice as the Governor-General in Council may offer him with a view to the management of the finances, the settlement and collection of the revenues, the imposition of taxes, the administration of justice, the extension of commerce, the encouragement of trade, agriculture, and industry, and any other objects connected with His Highness's interests, the happiness of his subjects, and his relations to the British Government." And, "In the event of the breach or non-observance of any of the foregoing conditions," the Governor-General may resume possession of Mysore and administer it as he thinks fit. Such, then, is a brief summary of the Constitution of Mysore; and it is most necessary to dwell on it with some degree of minuteness in order to show those Englishmen who are interested in Mysore, or who may be desirous of settling there, that they and their possessions in that country are as practically under British rule as they would be in any part of British India.

I have previously pointed out that there is no income-tax in Mysore. I have also alluded to the fact that, as the finances are in a flourishing condition, and, beyond the subsidy annually levied, are free from any obligation to contribute to the general expenditure of British India, there are ample and certain means available for developing the resources of the country. And that these means shall be devoted to that end exclusively, I would call particular attention to the fact that it has been laid down by the British Government that, after deducting the amount set apart annually for the personal expenses of the Maharajah, the remaining revenues of the province are to be spent on public purposes only, under a regular system of an annual budget appropriation, and the proper accounting for such expenditure. So that, taking all the circumstances into consideration, it is clear that the settlers in Mysore have advantages over any other settlers in India. The taxes they pay on their lands are fixed and most moderate in amount, they have every security that capital can enjoy, and they are living in a country which, after an ample expenditure on public works of all kinds, has an ample annual surplus. But, besides those circumstances, the settlers in the province, and the inhabitants as well, have another advantage which must by no means be lost sight of, for Mysore has a Representative Assembly, which sits once a year, and which affords a ready means for publicly ventilating any grievance, or making known any want which may be felt by the community; and as there is no institution exactly like it in the world, I propose to describe the constitution of the Assembly and its proceedings with some degree of minuteness.

The Mysore Representative Assembly, then, which was originated by Mr. Rungacharlu, the first Prime Minister of Mysore, was inaugurated on the 25th of August, 1881, or about five months after the accession of the Maharajah, by the following notification:

"His Highness the Maharajah is desirous that the views and objects which his Government has in view in the measures adopted for the administration of the Province should be better known and appreciated by the people for whose benefit they are intended, and he is of opinion that a beginning towards the attainment of that object may he made by an annual meeting of the representative landholders and merchants from all parts of the Province, before whom the Dewan will place the results of the past year's administration, and a programme of what is intended to be carried out in the coming year. Such an arrangement, by bringing the people into immediate connection with the Government, would serve to remove from their minds any misapprehension as regards the views and action of the Government, and would convince them that the interests of the Government are identical with those of the people.

"The annual meeting will be conveniently held at Mysore immediately after the close of the Dassara festival, which occasion will offer an additional inducement to those invited to attend the meeting. For the present the Local Fund Boards of the several districts will be asked to select from amongst themselves and others of the district the persons who are to be deputed to represent their respective districts at the meeting. In order to represent the landed interests of all the Talooks (counties), as well as the interests of trade, there should be sent one or two cultivating landholders from each Talook, possessed of general influence and information amongst the people, and three or four leading merchants for the district generally. A list of them should be sent beforehand to this office, in order to arrange for their accommodation in Mysore. They may be allowed a small sum from the local funds to meet the actual expenses of their travelling."

The Assembly thus constituted was, as will have been perceived at a glance, a purely consultative body, and had no power whatever except (and a highly important exception it is) that of publicly stating to the rulers of the country all the grievances and wants of the people. The only institution that I can hear of that at all resembles it is the Egyptian General Assembly of the Legislative Council, but that, though a consultative, and not at all a law-making body, has the power of putting a veto on any new tax proposed by the Government. In constitution, too, it differs widely from the Mysore Assembly, as the ministers have seats in it, while in Mysore no Government official can be a member of the Assembly. I may mention here that the Egyptian Assembly was initiated by Lord Dufferin in May, 1883, and I would refer those interested in the creation of representative institutions to his Report, No. 6 (1883), and to the Report on Egypt, No. 3 (1892), by Sir Evelyn Baring (now Lord Cromer), both being Blue Books presented to the Houses of Parliament. It is interesting to note here that whereas Lord Dufferin took the first step in the direction of representative institutions by uniting, in the same assembly, Government officials, and members elected on the broad basis of manhood suffrage, the native statesman began by carefully excluding the officials, and allowing only the middle and upper classes to have anything to do with the Assembly.

The first meeting of the Mysore Representative Assembly took place on October 7th, 1881, when 144 members attended. The Dewan first of all read the annual report on the administration of the province, and after that the members were called up in succession and asked to state their grievances and wants. At the end of the session the Dewan's annual statement, or report, and an account of the proceedings of the Assembly, are printed in English and in Kanarese.

The Assembly, as we have seen, consisted of members partly appointed by the Local Fund Boards, and partly of members nominated through the agency of Government officials, but at the conclusion of the Dewan's address of October 28th, 1890, an important change in the constitution of the Assembly was announced, and a new body of rules was issued. By these all members were in future to be elected, and the qualifications entitling a man to vote for, or be elected a member for a county (talook), were (1) the payment of land revenues, a house and shop tax to the amount specified in the schedule[11] for each county; (2) the ownership of land to the value of 500 rupees a year, accompanied with residence in the county; and (3) any resident in a county who is a graduate of any Indian university is declared to be a duly qualified person. Those so qualified were to meet on a certain day, of which a month's notice was to be given, and elect members from amongst themselves. 212 members from the counties were to be thus elected. The cities of Bangalore and Mysore return four members each, and these must either pay a house or shop tax of twenty-four rupees, or be a graduate of any Indian university; the nine Local Fund Boards return two members each; the eighty-nine municipalities one for each municipality, and associations representing approved public interests, and of not less than 100 members, and also associations of smaller numbers, but recognized by Government—as for instance the Planters' Associations—may depute one member each, and the total of all the members is estimated at 351. By Rule 6 it is declared that "As the object of the Assembly is to elicit non-official public opinion, no person holding a salaried appointment under Government shall vote for, or be returned as, a member of the Assembly." By Rule 7, each member is to prepare and forward to the deputy commissioner a memo describing seriatim the representations and suggestions he may desire to make at the meeting of the Assembly; and by Rule 9 the memoranda are to be forwarded, with the deputy-commissioner's remarks, to the Chief Secretary to Government. By Rule 10 all the members are to hold a formal meeting at Mysore not less than three days before the meeting of the Assembly, and should they decide at this preliminary meeting to bring forward at the Assembly any subjects not mentioned in the memoranda previously sent in by members, a supplemental list of such subjects must be sent in to the Chief Secretary.

When announcing the adoption of these new rules, the Dewan alluded to the fact that the constitution now given did not insure a full popular representation, and stated that numerous practical difficulties stood in the way of widening the representation. Finally he concluded by observing that, "It is His Highness' sincere hope that the privilege he has now been pleased to grant will be exercised to the fullest extent, and in the most beneficial manner possible, and that it will be so appreciated by all as to enable His Highness gradually to enlarge the circle of electors, so as to give wider effect to the principle of representation in the constitution of this Assembly."

To this, the first elected Assembly that ever sat in India, I was returned as representative of the South Mysore Planters' Association. On the 11th I proceeded to the city of Mysore, and on the 12th of October, 1891, attended the preliminary meeting of members, which was held in the Rungacharlu Memorial Hall—a fine building with a large hall, which has a wide dais at one end, and a, very wide gallery running along three sides of the hall. The meeting was held at 8 a.m. in the body of the hall, where I found that a considerable body of people, who I presume were mostly representatives, were present. The hall was arranged with benches, very much as most modern churches are, and just below the dais was a long table with chairs on one side of it. It was proposed that I, the only European present, should take the chair, and I accordingly did so, being supported on either hand by two members who had a fluent command of English, and what was of more importance to me, of Kanarese, for, though I had a colloquial knowledge of that language, I had not such a command of it as was necessary for satisfactory public speaking. I accordingly read out in English (which a certain number of the audience knew) each, measure I proposed, and then informed the audience in Kanarese that one of the members would explain the subject in that language, and I found that this arrangement answered all practical purposes. The following measures had been drawn up by me previously in Bangalore after consultation with some leading members of the Assembly, and were printed and circulated amongst the members present, and it may not be uninteresting to give some of them here.

The first point taken up related to measures for the prevention of famine, and, after some discussion, four proposals were unanimously agreed to, all of them for the promotion of the digging of wells either by private enterprise or through the agency of the State. The next point related to fuel and fodder reserves, which it was agreed should be established on the lands of all villages, or near all villages, wherever land suitable for the purpose could be found. We then turned to a bill I had laid on the table with reference to advances to labourers—an important and difficult subject—when it was agreed that it should be referred to the Planters' Association for consideration. An amendment on the waste land rules for planting trees for timber and fuel was then considered and agreed to. After this it was resolved that a Government agricultural chemist Ought to be appointed, who would be competent to advise on agricultural practice, cattle disease, etc., and give lectures on such subjects. We then took up the subject of British interference with proposed irrigation works in Mysore, and resolved that the Mysoreans should be allowed to have the full use of the water of Mysore for irrigation purposes, and be free from any interference as long as the water, or what is left of it, is returned to its original channel. The subject of extradition was next considered, when the representatives resolved that (1) complete reciprocity should be granted between British and Mysore territory as regards warrants, and (2) that British jurisdiction over railways in Mysore should be given up, or at least as regards all matters of theft. It was next decided that at the close of the session the representatives should continue in office till new members were elected. After this it was agreed that Government agricultural banks should be introduced. Then the representatives, having sat for about four hours, adjourned till the following day.

On the 13th we met again accordingly at 8 a.m., and on this occasion sat in the gallery, which was quite wide enough to accommodate the members. It was proposed that I should take the chair, and I did so, and opened the proceedings by introducing rules to regulate the discussion. These were that the introducer of a proposed measure should be allowed ten, and a discusser five minutes; that no one should interrupt or rise to speak before the previous speaker had sat down, and that a discusser could only be heard once. These rules were agreed to, and I found the last two of great advantage in managing the proceedings. The first two, I was glad to find, were hardly necessary, as anything in the shape of the British, or, worse still, the Irish wind-bag, did not appear to exist amongst the members.

The next subject taken up was that of organization, and on the assumption that the Government would grant our prayer that the present members should not be dismissed at the end of the session, but should continue to be representatives till their successors were elected, it was resolved that there should be a standing central committee of the Assembly, and also district and county committees, and it was agreed that the first should consist of twenty-two members—for Bangalore and Mysore city six members each, one from each district, and one from each coffee planters' association. Seven members to constitute a quorum. The district committees were to consist of one from each county, and two from the head-quarters of the district, five being a quorum, and the county committees of three members. We then agreed to the members who were to form the central committee and district committees, and, after that, that the Maharajah should be formally thanked for his action on his part as regards the Assembly, and that it should be prayed that the measures now asked for might be granted. And finally, it was arranged that the standing central committee should draw up an address to the Maharajah, embodying the views and wishes of the representatives.

The meeting terminated at about 11 a.m., and immediately afterwards the central committee sat upstairs in a room at an angle of the building, when I was appointed chairman. We first took up the question of funds, and I suggested that each member of the Assembly should subscribe one rupee. This was agreed to, and I at once put a rupee on the table, and presently there were about fifteen added, and a list was made out of those who had paid. We then agreed that an address should be presented to the Maharajah after the termination of the meetings of the Assembly, and afterwards it was arranged that Mr. C. Rangiengar, B.A., Advocate, Mysore, should be secretary to the central committee, spend the funds at his discretion for printing and advertising, and render an account once a year.

The next day was a dies non as regards the Representative Assembly, but by no means so as regards the Rungacharlu Hall, which at eight in the morning presented a most interesting appearance, being filled with a large assemblage of native ladies who had met together to witness the giving of the prizes to the lady students of the Maharanee's College. The Maharajah presided on the occasion. Besides prizes for educational proficiency, there were others for music and singing, and the winners of these played and sang on a platform below, on one side of the dais. One of the musicians, a tastefully-dressed young lady of thirteen, was a granddaughter of Mr. Rungacharlu, the first Prime Minister of Mysore. One of the prize-takers was a widow—plainly dressed as widows should be—and as she came forward there was a loud clapping of hands from the women spectators in the gallery. I found, on inquiry, that the reason of this demonstration was that she had lately given a lecture which had been much appreciated by the students. I have no space to give an account of the proceedings, though I hope to do so on some future occasion, and can only say that a more interesting and picturesque assemblage it would be difficult to imagine.

On the day following, October 15th, the Assembly was formally opened at twelve, when the Dewan presided at a table on the raised platform. He was backed and flanked by the principal European and native officers of State, while on his right sat Sir Harry Prendergast, V.C., the Resident at the Court of Mysore. The English representatives, five in all, one of them representing the gold mining interests of the province, had seats on the platform, and so had as many representatives as there was room for. The remainder occupied the body of the hall. The Dewan then opened the tenth annual meeting of the Representative Assembly of Mysore, by reading the already printed annual administration Report of the Province, and it may not be uninteresting to quote the opening sentences of it:

"Gentlemen,

"By command of His Highness the Maharajah, I have much pleasure in welcoming you to this Assembly, which meets here to-day for the first time under the election system sanctioned last year. You come here as the duly elected representatives of the agricultural, the industrial, and the commercial interests of the State. Last year, when His Highness was pleased to grant the valued privilege of election, he was not without some misgivings as to how the experiment would succeed, but it is most gratifying to His Highness that, though unused to the system, the electoral body has been able, in the very first year of its existence, to exercise the privilege with so much judgment and sense of responsibility as to send to this Assembly men in every way qualified to speak on their behalf. That men representing the industry and the intellect of the country should have already taken so much interest in the scheme augurs well for the future of the institution. His Highness asks me to take this opportunity publicly to acknowledge the expressions of warm gratitude which have reached him from all sides for the privilege of election granted last year."

The Dewan then proceeded to make his statement of the Revenue and Expenditure of 1890-91, by which it appeared that the Revenue for that period—the largest ever realized by the State—was 145 lakhs of rupees, or, at par,[12] L1,450,000, and the account showed a surplus of 23 lakhs, or L230,000; but from this had to be deducted a sum for expenditure on new railways, which reduced the surplus, or rather, disposed of it to such an amount as to leave a balance of 12-1/2 lakhs, or L125,000. The budget was then taken up in detail, and the Dewan showed in the most lucid manner the financial position as regards the various heads of receipts and expenditure, all of which I shall pass over except that relating to gold, which the reader will probably find interesting, for, as the Kanarese proverb says, "If gold is to be seen, even a corpse will open its mouth." There was, then, an increase in State receipts from gold mining dues to the extent of 37,000 rupees in the amount of royalty, while "Premia and deposits on leases" brought in 71,000 rupees. The mines in the Kolar gold field during 1890 extracted 106,903 ounces of gold. Three of them—the Mysore, Ooregum, and Nundydroog—showed a considerable increase in production over the previous year. The first increased from 49,238 oz. to 58,183 oz.; the second from 16,437 oz. to 27,351 oz., and the third from 6,129 oz. to 15,637 oz.

The Dewan then called the attention of the Assembly to the working of some of the principal departments of the State, beginning with the railways, and, after giving a very satisfactory account of the progress made, concluded this branch of his subject by observing that "As regards our main railway policy there will be no pause in the course of development, and should our financial condition continue to improve, the next decade will see the Province intersected with lines which, in the decade preceding the rendition, were only thought of as remote possibilities." He next remarked on other public works, and showed that in the last ten years no less than 471 miles of entirely new roads had been opened up, while 218 miles of incomplete roads, which had been inherited at the time of the rendition, had been brought up to standard. Then he turned to irrigation, and stated that the large irrigation works commenced in former years were advancing towards completion. And here the Dewan alluded to a matter of the greatest importance, and to which I shall again return further on. It appears that the Supreme Government had actually put a stop to certain irrigation works begun by the Mysore Government on the ground that these would lessen the supply of water from Mysore to British territory. As to this the Dewan now observed on "The difference which had arisen with the Madras authorities as to the rights of Mysore to the full use of its drainage areas." The case had been laid before the Government of India, and the Dewan said that "the basis for a solution of the difficulty has been arranged with the Madras Government in a way that is likely to remove to a considerable extent the check that the progress of our irrigation works had received in tracts bordering upon the Madras Presidency."

The subject of well irrigation too had not been neglected, and the Dewan pointed out that its protective value in times of drought is far superior to tank irrigation, and observed that, "During the last famine the only oases in the midst of the general desolate appearance of the country were, besides the tracts watered by our river channels, those special regions favoured with well irrigation." So important was well irrigation, that the Government had resolved to make advances to ryots willing to construct them, at a low rate of interest, and repayable by easy instalments in a long series of years. In the event of water not being found, or found in insufficient quantity, the Government had undertaken the risk of failure, so that the farmer was placed beyond all risk of loss. And, in order to facilitate the progress of such works, a special officer had been appointed to give the advances on the spot, so as to avoid the delay caused by the usual circuitous official correspondence.

I may here pause for one moment to remark on the great value of the Assembly as regards any new measure like the one just alluded to, for it often happens that from the scarcity of newspapers, and the inability of the poorer ryots to purchase them, measures of great value are not taken advantage of, or only are so after a long delay. Now an assembly like that of Mysore provides an excellent means for distributing information on all Government matters, and in one part of his address the Dewan particularly requested the representatives from two important districts to explain fully to the people certain matters, the particulars of which I cannot, for want of space, give here.

The Dewan then went into the interesting subject of Forests, and it was satisfactory to notice the progress that had been made in planting, and that sandal wood had year after year been yielding an increased revenue. The transition from forests to elephants was natural, and during the year 70 had been caught. Some died after capture and others were liberated. Of the 44 retained, 41, of which 14 were tuskers, were sold for 50,705 rupees. Having fully discussed the elephants, the Dewan turned next to education, and here he was able to record marked progress in every direction, and especially in female instruction. There were now 97 girls' schools in the province, and an important change had been made as regards their immediate supervision, which was now exercised by local committees. "The committees," said the Dewan, "have been given large powers of management, and the initiative rests, in almost all cases, with them, subject to the approval of Government." The object of this of course was to interest the people in the subject, and the Dewan observed that "Female education cannot become firmly established in the country until the people begin to look upon the education of their girls, whether children or adults, as necessary, and as obligatory as that of their boys. The Government have thought that the best way of securing this result in the infancy of female education is to leave as much as possible to the intelligent and sympathetic guidance of local committees." After alluding to the results of the archaeological survey, and dwelling on the fact that during the past year 1,500 inscriptions were secured, some of which were of great value and interest, the Dewan then took up the subject of excise, and went into the reforms he proposed to institute as regards that department. The census of Feb. 26th, 1891, was next alluded to, and by this it appeared that, including the civil and military' station of Bangalore, the population returned was 4,943,079 as compared with 4,183,188 in 1881, and 5,055,412 in 1871. The increase during the last decade was thus very considerable, but Mysore has still some progress to make before it can bring up its numbers to the census return of 1871, nearly a million of persons having been swept away in the disastrous famine of 1876-77. The municipal elections were next alluded to, and it was announced that the cities of Bangalore and Mysore were to have an extension of the electoral system. The important subject of the reform of religious and charitable institutions (there had been several representations made as regards these in previous years by members of the Assembly) was next taken up, and it was announced that a specially qualified officer had been appointed to "inquire into the subject on the spot, and to carry out the needed reform in the case of each institution under the general and special orders of Government, and, when once all institutions are thoroughly reformed and placed upon a sound and efficient footing, the future management of them on the lines laid down will, as heretofore, have to be carried on by the local executive authorities." After alluding to some contemplated reforms in the Civil Service of the province, the Dewan concluded his able address by alluding to the apprehensions of famine which had been consequent on the failure of the rains, and congratulating the members on the fact that owing to good rain having fallen only a fortnight ago, the threatened danger had now passed away.

After the conclusion of the Dewan's address I then rose, and, as chairman of the preliminary meetings of representatives, alluded to the subject of the organization of committees which we desired to carry into effect, and urged that, as far as possible, members should avoid going into petty local grievances, and devote their attention to those large general questions which affect the whole province. After I had sat down a translation of the Dewan's address was then delivered in Kanarese, for the benefit of the representatives who did not understand English, and the Assembly afterwards adjourned till the following morning.

After the Assembly had adjourned the members of the central committee met in a private room, and we agreed on the terms of the address to the Maharajah. Then we returned to the Hall, as it had been thought advisable to take up several matters which had not been discussed at our first preliminary meeting, and it was again proposed that I should take the chair. The first proposal made was that members, instead of being annually elected to the Assembly, should be elected for three years, and this was unanimously carried. A leading native member next rose and proposed that no girl under ten years of age should be given in marriage. Then ensued a scene of excitement that baffles description. The representatives who, the moment before, had been quite calm and collected, and who looked so passive that it seemed that nothing could have aroused them from a condition of profound composure, became suddenly electrified. A burst of tongues arose simultaneously all over the Assembly. Several members got up and tried to speak at once, and one of these (I think I see him now), a tall, stout, elderly man with a voice of thunder, and his appearance much accentuated by an enormous bamboo pen which he had thrust behind his ear, entered into an altercation with the proposer of the motion. I had no president's bell, and if I had had one I am sure I might have rung it in vain, and I thought it best to sit still for a little time, and let the representatives liberate their minds. Presently, and the moment I saw the first signs of an abatement of the excitement, I rose, and, with a slight signal of my hand quieted the audience, and observed that, as this was a subject as to which there was evidently much difference of opinion, and as it was very desirable that, as regards the measures proposed at our preliminary meetings,[13] there should be a complete unanimity of opinion, I begged leave to suggest to the meeting that the subject might be adjourned, and, if desired, brought up at the next day's meeting of the full Assembly. This was agreed to, and a member then proposed that two seers of grain (about equal to four lbs.) should be contributed yearly by each ryot, and stored up in a public granary against times of famine. This, I confess, I thought, and still think, a sensible proposal, as, in the first burst of a famine it is very desirable, till trade operations from a distance get under weigh, that local supplies should exist, but, after some discussion, I found that the proposal met with such small approval, that I did not think of putting it to the meeting. It was next proposed, and as can easily be imagined, carried unanimously, that where, from the failure of the rains, there was absolutely no crop whatever, a remission of the assessment should be granted. Finally it was agreed that, at the opening of the Assembly on the following morning, I should bring up and speak on all the points that had been agreed to at the meetings over which I had presided, and the meeting broke up at three o'clock. After it was over several of the representatives expressed to me their gratitude for the interest I had shown in the affairs of Mysore, and from the numerous evidences I subsequently had of the appreciation of the natives, I felt most amply repaid for the trouble I had taken.

On the following morning, Friday, Oct. 16th, the Assembly met at eight o'clock, and I was called on to proceed with my address as chairman of the preliminary meetings, and though I spoke as briefly as possible on each of the points which had been agreed to, my speech lasted for one hour and twenty minutes. After it was over the Dewan asked if any member desired to speak on any of the points I had brought forward, but no one rose to do so, which was satisfactory evidence that complete unanimity had existed as regards the various points, and that I had correctly conveyed the opinions of the representatives. The Dewan then called upon each representative in turn to state any grievances, or make known any wants which his constituents had desired him to represent, and a great many local wants as regards roads, hospitals, telegraphs, etc., were brought forward. The subject that excited most interest, and afforded some amusement, was that of the age at which girls should be given in marriage, which had been brought forward at the meeting of the day previous. Some discussion ensued regarding it, when it appeared that the point as to which the representatives were really most concerned, was that of elderly men who had no children marrying again and again with the hope of getting them, regarding which one of the representatives said to me in conversation, "We object to old fogies marrying young girls." The point was especially urged by one member, who argued in the most serious manner that, if a man when in the prime of life had no family there was little likelihood of success when he was between sixty and seventy years of age. This remark was received with general laughter, and shortly afterwards the Dewan made a judicious reply on the whole question, and said that, in his opinion, the interference of the Government was inadvisable, and that the question was one that ought to be settled by the people consulting privately on the subject. Then the Assembly turned to other matters, and finally adjourned at midday.

I may here mention that I subsequently had some conversation with natives regarding the marriage question, especially as to the age for consummation, when I found that the pressure of public opinion, and the various discussions on the subject, which had appeared in the newspapers, had already produced a considerable effect in delaying the time for married girls leaving the paternal roof to join their husbands.

It may perhaps be not uninteresting to mention too that, on the afternoon of the day on which I made my speech I fell in with two native gentlemen who spoke to me about it. What I found had been particularly appreciated (and very naturally so as water is of such vital importance in India), was the firm protest I had made against the Supreme Government restricting the Mysoreans as to the use, for irrigation, of the waters of Mysore on the ground that a more extended use of them would lessen the supply to the adjacent British territory. In the course of my speech, I made a very telling point by supposing, for the sake of argument, that Mysore had, as had been originally proposed, been annexed, and made an integral part of the Madras Presidency. In that case, I asked, would the Government have limited the supply of the water to the Mysore part of the presidency in order to improve the more distant irrigated tracts in other parts of British territory? I then argued that the British Government would certainly not have done so, seeing that, to have so acted would have diminished the means available for contending with famine, for, as I fully urged, it is perfectly well known that the further the water travels the greater is the waste from percolation and evaporation, and the smaller the amount of land it can irrigate. If, then, the British Government would not have so acted had Mysore been annexed, what right, I asked, had it to interfere with Mysore regarding the use of its waters, and thereby to increase the risks of famine in that country? It was no wonder, I continued, that an English officer in the Mysore service had been heard to say that he supposed Mysore would not be allowed to plant a tree, in case it might precipitate some moisture that might otherwise pass over into British territory.

I may here mention another remark which the above mentioned native gentleman made as regards my speech. "It was not so much the speech as the sense of fairness, and frankness, and sincerity which you showed that impressed us." This remark showed, as I have often found, that the common idea of natives always having recourse to flattery is a mistaken one, and it was rather interesting to find the ideas of ancient times repeated by one who could have heard hardly anything in the way of public speaking. The reader may remember how Quinctilian in effect said that there is no instrument of persuasion more powerful than an opinion of probity and honour in the person who undertakes to persuade, and how it has been pointed out that the powerful effect caused by the speaking of Pericles really lay in the confidence which the people reposed in his integrity. But it is time now to turn to the proceedings of the Assembly, which had been adjourned to Saturday, October 17th.

On that day, then, we met at 8 a.m., and it was proposed by one of the representatives that the collection of the land revenues should in future be postponed till after the harvest, as the present times of collection were inconvenient to the cultivators and often compelled them to borrow money, or mortgage their crops in order to find money to meet the Government demands. The change asked for was warmly urged by the speaker, who gave very convincing reasons, which I have no space to repeat here, in favour of the proposed alteration. After this speech was over the Dewan turned to the head revenue officer and consulted him, and also two English officials of great experience. I did not look at my watch, but I am sure the consultation did not last five minutes. The Dewan then turned to the Assembly and said, "This proposal is granted," and the decision was received with loud applause. The chief revenue and settlement officer afterwards told me that this was the most important point ever gained by the Assembly.

I may pause here to remark that what I saw and heard at the Assembly, combined with what I previously knew of the Mysore Government, satisfied me that a more perfect form of government does not exist in the world. Here, as we have just seen, was a most important measure gained for the country after what was really a very short consultative meeting between the ruler and the ruled. The ruler—in other words the Dewan—was sitting like a judge on the bench, patiently listening to and taking notes of the various wants of the people as the representatives came forward—occasionally consulting with his officials—granting some things, absolutely refusing others, and announcing sometimes that the subject brought forward would be taken into consideration, while the representatives seemed to be perfectly satisfied that the ruler would willingly do, and was willingly doing, the best he could for the common interest. I may mention that I was particularly struck with the dignified, gentlemanly and friendly manner of the Dewan when consulting his English officials, and there was evidently a mutual appreciation existing, which I had afterwards distinct knowledge of when I subsequently heard some of these officials alluding, in private conversation, to the Dewan. I have a great dislike to the idea of being thought guilty of flattery, but I cannot refrain from recording the remarkable fact that (and how rarely can this be said of any public man), while I have heard much in favour of the Dewan, I have never heard a single deprecatory remark made concerning his administration of the province, either by natives or Europeans. Mysore is indeed extremely fortunate in having such a man as Mr. Sheshadri Iyer, since made Sir K. Sheshadri Iyer, K.C.I.E., at the head of affairs. He has already been granted an extension of the usual period of office (five years), and it is to be hoped that the very doubtful practice of selecting a new man for this important office, even though there may be a valuable one at the helm, may be put aside for at least some years more.

The Assembly sat on the two following days, and was concluded by the presentation of an address to the Maharajah, thanking His Highness for having instituted an elected Assembly, and praying that the various wants brought forward might meet with favourable consideration. In all, the Assembly, inclusive of the preliminary meetings of the representatives, sat for eight days, and though there was much earnestness in discussion, and much difference of opinion, not a single case of an exhibition of ill feeling occurred, with the exception, as we have seen, of the occasion when the marriage question was brought forward, though that may be called an exhibition of warm and excited feeling rather than ill feeling.

As the reader will remember, the representatives have no power whatever, except, and a very important exception it of course is, of ventilating in public, and in the presence of the Dewan and the leading officers of State, whatever grievances and wants they may desire to call attention to, and the machinery for this ventilation is now so complete that the requirements even of those inhabiting the most inaccessible corners of the province can be readily made known to the Government. And now this question naturally arises. When, if ever, is it probable that this Assembly will demand for itself some direct power of controlling, or directing the Government? As far as I could see at the time, or can see now, the Assembly is never likely to ask for any power whatever, and I confess that I was much struck with the fact that, though I had many private conversations relating to the Assembly, both with natives and Europeans, I never expressed myself, nor did I ever hear anyone express, a desire that the Assembly should have any power. But after a little reflection, the explanation of the absence of any such demand seems to be extremely obvious, for if we look into the history of all parliamentary institutions such as we have, we shall find that they have arisen primarily from misgovernment, and I say primarily because such institutions in the United States and in our colonies are merely inheritances from the forefathers of the English founders of these countries. The insuperable difficulty, then, in the way of those who desire to create parliamentary institutions in India is, that there is no misgovernment on which to start them, and that is why the Indian National (so called, for there is nothing really national about it) Congress have found it advisable, as a preliminary step, to try and persuade the people, with the aid of lying and seditious pamphlets, that they are misgoverned. If indeed I were the absolute monarch of Mysore I could certainly, I feel sure, create Parliamentary Institutions, but only in one way that I can think of. I should misgovern the country and worry and oppress the people, and at the same time keep the Assembly going, and after a time I should thus create a desire on the part of the representatives to have some means of keeping me in check. But at present there is no one to keep in check. The Government is really too good for the creation of any desire for change. For the ruler of Mysore is not only desirous of meeting the people half way, but even of anticipating their wants, and the people have a ready means of making their wants known. And, when making known these wants, their representatives are not only free from the expense and annoyances to which Members of Parliament are exposed, but have a most enjoyable time of it as well, for the Assembly is held at the time of the great annual festival of the Dassara, when there are wonderfully picturesque processions, illuminations, and displays of fireworks. In fact, were it not for these attractions, I feel sure that it would be a difficult matter to get the representatives together, because, though they are of course easily able to find many wants, there are no grievances so real as to make the people generally take much, or indeed any, interest in the proceedings of the Assembly, and in this connection I may mention the following confirmatory facts.