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. On the morning following the breaking up of the Assembly I left Mysore to make a tour in Coorg to visit the plantations in that district, and drove first of all sixteen miles to breakfast at a Travellers' Bungalow on the main road. While breakfast was being prepared I went for a stroll, and fell into conversation with the first native I met, who, I found, was, with the aid of a number of labourers, working a plantation of palms and fruit-trees at a short distance from the bungalow. I expressed a wish to see the plantation, and, when on our way there, told him that I had just been attending the Representative Assembly at Mysore. Just imagine my feelings, when he told me that he had never heard of it, nor indeed when he did hear of it did he ask me a single question about it. And yet we were only sixteen miles from the capital, and on one of the main roads of the province. He was, too, a man of fair intelligence and, though we conversed in Kanarese, he told me that he knew some English, which proved that he was a man of a certain degree of education. On my return to my estates I found that, though the natives had heard of the Assembly (probably because the native representative lived within a few miles of my house), no one seemed to take any interest in its proceedings, and I do not remember having been asked a single question with reference to it. The explanation, of course, of this state of things is that the people are perfectly contented, and satisfied with the steady progress they see going on around them. There is therefore no demand[14] for representative institutions, or the acquisition of power by the people, for while they see abundant signs of progress, there is no oppression, and therefore