he became a fugitive from one Indian court to another, and finally had to take refuge with the King of Persia. At length be treacherously got possession of a city belonging to his protector, and with the money and forces obtained by this act, he succeeded in overthrowing one of his most formidable opponents, his younger brother Kamran. Having put out Kamran's eyes he continued the reconquest of his empire, and at last reëstablished his throne at Delhi, after sixteen years of exile. Six months afterwards he died, having fallen from the staircase of his library upon a marble floor. He was a great scholar, astrologer and patron of literature, and is considered one of the finest characters in Indian history. ·

The two wives of Hoomaioon are also buried in this building, which contains besides the tombs of other members of his house; among them that of Dara Shéko, the eldest son of Shah Jehan, who was murdered by the command of his brother, the Emperor Aurungzeeb.

The terrace, or chubootra, on which this mausoleum is built, is a distinctive feature of Moosulman art in India. It is always much broader than the building which it supports, and generally just so high that when the observer stands at the entrance of the court-yard, the lower line of the building is apparently on a level with his eye. The effect of these chubootras is really wonderful, and is like that of a good frame to a picture, or a pedestal to a statue. The arched recesses which are spoken of above, are also peculiar to this architecture. They begin at the ground, and commonly cover nearly half the surface of the building. The doors and windows, which are within them, may be of any size, but these recesses are always as large as circumstances will permit, and are the grand feature of every façade.

This magnificent mausoleum is enclosed in a quadrangle, nearly four hundred yards square, which was formerly laid. out as a garden, with marble fish ponds and other decorations, but is now neglected and uncared for. The quadrangle is enclosed by a lofty embattled wall of redstone, with towers and four fine gateways. Being a place of considerable strength, the enclosure of this tomb as well as that of Sufdur Jung's

mausoleum, were formerly used as places of refuge by the inhabitants of the suburbs during the incursions of the Maharattas. It was here that the King of Delhi took refuge after the capture of the city last autumn; and here he was taken prisoner by Captain Hodgson. Nothing can give a better idea of the immense moral superiority of the European over the native, than this daring achievement. The enclosure, I have said, was strong, far stronger than the Residency at Lucknow. The king was within, surrounded by troops of armed followers. The Englishman was alone, far away from all help, and accompanied only by fifty black suwars (horsemen) who could not be relied on. He ordered the king to come out, promising him only his own life, and that of his favourite wife and her son. The disproportion of these commands with Captain Hodgson's power of enforcing them would be ludicrous were it not for the imminent danger to which he was exposed, and the confidence in himself and his race which he displayed. He knew the native character, and felt sure that under the circumstances no native would have the spirit to resist a command. The king yielded at once, and set forth with his followers towards the city. The procession moved at a foot pace, the road was bad, on every side were tombs and other ruins that would serve for ambush or refuge, but Hodgson coolly rode by the side of his prisoner, with drawn sword ready to kill him should a rescue be attempted. All around were thousands of armed men, any one of whom might have shot that lonely Englishman without dread of the consequence, but not a man dared to lift his hand; all were cowed by the calm courage and undaunted confidence of his expression. That was the grand triumph of the Anglo-Saxon blood. A native may fight as well as another when excited; he will even risk his life more readily than a European, but there is not a man in India who will not quail before an Englishman's eyes, and tremblingly obey his commands.

During the recent mutiny, English courage has nobly supported its ancient reputation. Feeble companies have borne the attack of countless adversaries, ladies have shot down the wretches who dared to assail their life and their honour, and

have then killed themselves to avoid a worse fate. Everywhere the odds were a thousand to one. Everywhere the war was one of extermination, yet not one Englishman ever despaired, not one ever doubted the result of the struggle. But in the long list of acts of individual heroism which have distinguished this above all modern wars, and which, when we hear them told, carry us back to the days of chivalry, I think no single action is so thoroughly characteristic of British pluck, as the capture of the King of Delhi by Captain Hodgson.

CHAPTER XXIII.

DELHI AND UMBALA.

The Saint's Tomb-A Royal Cemetery-A Victim of the English-The Old Fort-A Nach at Mr. Skinner's-The Dinner-The Girls-Their Songs-Dancing Boys-Native Gentlemen-Snakes-The Bazárs of Delhi-The Streets-A Native Wedding— A "Public Night" at the Mess of the 54th-Dâk to Umbala-Sick-A Dandy Servant "Vengeance is Sweet"-Sepoy Bands-The Native Army-Cashmeer Shawls.

FROM HOOmaioon's tomb I went to a village, half a mile north, where is buried a celebrated Moosulman saint, Nizamood-Deen, who died in the early part of the fourteenth century. The tomb is within a court paved with marble. It is a small but very beautiful white marble building, surrounded by a colonnade, and covered by a dome. Between the pillars of the colonnade are scarlet cloth purdahs, or curtains. In the centre of the building the body of the saint lies in a low sarcophagus of marble, which is covered with silk brocade, strewn with fresh flowers. The sanctity of this shrine is such that it still attracts pilgrims from all parts of India, whose contributions keep the tomb in order. Within this court-yard are buried several members of the imperial family, among others, the Emperor Mohummud Shah, during whose reign the invasion of Nadur Shah took place. Close by is the tomb of Prince Mirza Jehangeer, who was banished by the English government from Delhi, on account of frequent attempts to murder his elder brother, and excite insurrection. He killed himself by drinking cherry brandy, of which liquor he used to swallow a glass an hour, limiting himself to that amount, in order to protract the pleasure and delay intoxication. He was the favourite son of the old Emperor, who always believed that he died of "sighing." At his death, the limited resources of the imperial purse were drawn on to give him a

handsome tomb in this place. Many other tombs lie around, among which the most remarkable is that of Jehanara Bégoom, the eldest daughter of Shah Jehan, and a very lovely character. All these tombs are of the same character. They are plain, square marble structures, about six feet long and two feet high, surrounded by screens of that exquisite marble trellis-work which is so beautiful a feature of Moosulman architecture. The tomb of Jehanara is shaped like the others, and, like them, is surrounded by a screen; but it is not covered with a slab. At its head is a stone, containing an inscription dictated by herself, and explaining this peculiarity. It runs as follows: "Let no rich canopy cover my grave. This grass is the best covering for the tomb of the poor in spirit. The humble, the transitory Jehanara, the disciplo of the holy men of Christ, the daughter of the Emperor Shah Jehan." The allusion to Christ is thought by some to signify that she had become a convert of the Romish priests, others suppose that she belonged to some Moosulman sect who particularly revered the character of Jesus. When Shah Jehan was imprisoned by his son Aurunzeeb, Jehanara voluntarily resigned her liberty, and accompanied her father into confinement, where she continued with him till his death. She died soon afterwards-poisoned, it is said, by her sister.

Close to these tombs is a baolee, or deep tank, about sixty feet square, similar to that near the Kootub. Here the same feats of diving, which I had seen at the former place, were repeated; but the leap is far higher, being at least sixty feet.

On the way back to Delhi, I stopped to see the Poorana Khila, or old Fort, which was formerly the centre of the old Pathan city of Delhi. It is a very large building, with high and massive walls, of dark coloured stone. The top of the walls was plain, not decorated with those arched battlements which distinguish the later Moosulman fortresses. The interior of the "Old Fort" is now occupied by an extensive village of mud huts, but it still contains a very large and massive tomb of redstone, and another considerable building in good repair.

That evening I dined at Mr. Skinner's, or, as he is called