usefully occupied somewhere or other, so that I have only to leave cards; but the reverend gentlemen are always within doors in the heat of the day, lying on their backs, regretting breakfast, longing for tiffin, and crying out for lemonade.”  After lunch he sate with Mrs. Trevelyan, translating Greek or reading French for her benefit; and Scribe’s comedies and Saint Simon’s Memoirs beguiled the long languid leisure of the Calcutta afternoon, while the punkah swung overhead, and the air came heavy and scented through the moistened grass-matting which shrouded the windows.  At the approach of sunset, with its attendant breeze, he joined his sister in her drive along the banks of the Hooghly; and they returned by starlight,—­too often to take part in a vast banquet of forty guests, dressed as fashionably as people can dress at ninety degrees East from Paris; who, one and all, had far rather have been eating their curry, and drinking their bitter beer, at home, in all the comfort of muslin and nankeen.  Macaulay is vehement in his dislike of “those great formal dinners, which unite all the stiffness of a levee to all the disorder and discomfort of a two-shilling ordinary.  Nothing can be duller.  Nobody speaks except to the person next him.  The conversation is the most deplorable twaddle, and, as I always sit next to the lady of the highest rank, or, in other words, to the oldest, ugliest, and proudest woman in the company, I am worse off than my neighbours.”

Nevertheless he was far too acute a judge of men to undervalue the special type of mind which is produced and fostered by the influences of an Indian career.  He was always ready to admit that there is no better company in the world than a young and rising civilian; no one who has more to say that is worth hearing, and who can say it in a manner better adapted to interest those who know good talk from bad.  He delighted in that freedom from pedantry, affectation, and pretension which is one of the most agreeable characteristics of a service, to belong to which is in itself so effectual an education, that a bore is a phenomenon notorious everywhere within a hundred miles of the station which has the honour to possess him, and a fool is quoted by name throughout all the three Presidencies.  Macaulay writes to his sisters at home:  “The best way of seeing society here is to have very small parties.  There is a little circle of people whose friendship I value, and in whose conversation I take pleasure:  the Chief Justice, Sir Edward Ryan; my old friend, Malkin; Cameron and Macleod, the Law Commissioners; Macnaghten, among the older servants of the Company, and Mangles, Colvin, and John Peter Grant among the younger. [It cannot be said that all the claims made upon Macaulay’s friendship were acknowledged as readily as those of Sir Benjamin Malkin.  “I am dunned unmercifully by place-hunters.  The oddest application that I have received is from that rascal —­, who is somewhere in the interior.  He tells me he is sure that prosperity