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out in beautiful walks and flower-beds. The patches of turnip and cauliflower console foreigners in a strange land. The fruit-trees are various, and the groves of veteran mangoes magnificent. There is also a little labyrinth of evergreens to puzzle and amuse holidayvisitors.

In the middle of the Bagh are three mausoleums— two over the Princes Chusero and Purvez, and a third over the Marwaree Begum of Jehangeer. The tombs are all on the model of a Mahomedan Tazia. belonging to the lady has a little peculiarity in distinction of her sex. She reposes by the side of her unhappy son, as if tending him with her maternal cares even in eternity. But they do not allow her to have a quiet sleep—the upper floor of her tomb has been fitted up

into a billiard-room, and the bones of the poor lady labour under a sore incubus.

The ill-fated Chusero lies between his mother and brother, and has the grandest tomb among the group. His remains are interred in the vaulted chamber, round which spreads a square terrace forming the first stratum of the building. The small size of the sarcophagus confirms the death of Chusero in an early age. The walls of the lofty octagon rising in the middle, are outwardly ornamented with many decorations. The interior is beautifully painted, in which some of the foliage and flowers still retain their dye. The dome on the top swells beautifully out into a faultless globe. In the opinion of Bishop Heber, these mausoleums 'completely give the lie to the notion common in England, which regards all Eastern architecture as in bad taste and barbarous.'

Adjoining the garden is a spacious serai, which gives a specimen of the Mogul public works. The rooms all round the square are still in good order to accommodate travellers. But in the open square is held the noisy fish and vegetable market of the town. To the serai is attached a deep well. From the bottom to the top, its sides are built up with strong masonry. The part left open to go down to the waters, has a large flight of steps resembling a ghaut. This well has acquired a great notoriety from the Moulivie, who had set up the standard of Deen at Allahabad, and who so prominently figured in the scenes of rebellion enacted in that city. To take in people, he used to spread a magic carpet covering the mouth of this well, and sitting thereon rosary in hand, attracted large multitudes to witness his miracle, and hear his pious harangues against Nazarene domination. The ignorant rabble wondered at the secret of his supernatural feat, and believing invincible the man who could resist gravitation, justified his treason and eagerly embraced his cause.

Up in these provinces, the Shoe-question has all the grave political importance of the Slave-question in America—and the force of a statutory law in the Mofussal officialdom. Our lawyer had to attend a case before the magistrate. He was forbid to enter the Court with his shoes on. On no account would the lawyer be unshod. On no account would the magistrate give up his punctilio. The lawyer remonstrated, the The 'Battle of the Shoes.'


magistrate persisted. For full ten minutes the war of words went on, much to the amusement of the bystanders; till at last the magistrate proposed a choice between taking off the shoes and taking off the pugreebetween bare feet and a bare head, the two opposite extremes for European and Oriental etiquette. The lawyer immediately doffed his pugree. The magistrate forthwith resumed his courtesy—and there was an end of the battle of the shoes.

In the dispute about the site of Palibothra, the great French geographer, Mons. D'Anville, gave the palm to Allahabad. But there is in Strabo a very particular allusion to a grand causeway leading from Palibothra into the interior of the country. Unless this causeway had been either over the Ganges or Jumna,—where is the river, channel, or any description of water whatsoever, which could have necessitated the erection of that causeway

? Tieffenthaler saw this place full of temples and idols in his time. But in all Allahabad there now rises only a single temple to break in upon the view. There is scarcely any activity of trade in this town, any bustle upon the river, any rumbling of coaches and carts in the streets, or any throng of merchants and porters on the thoroughfares. The population is scattered, and much too thin for a city of such magnitude. The houses :re poor, and the shops mean. The native community makes no stir in any of the important concerns of lifein religion, trade, education, politics, or pleasure,-everything languishes at Allahabad. But all this ennui is

soon to be at an end. There is a question on the tapis to make Allahabad the seat of the North-Western Presidency. Hereafter, the excellent geographical position, the strength of the natural boundaries, the fine climate, and the great resources of the neighbouring provinces, may point the place out for the seat of the Viceroy himself. Two years ago, here was uttered the dirge over the funeral of the late East India Company,-here was inaugurated the era of the Sovereignty of the Queen, with royal promises of pardon, forgiveness, justice, religious toleration, and non-annexation,—and here was Lord Canning installed as the first Viceroy of India.

Once more to move on by rail to Cawnpore. The station at Allahabad is not half so large as that at Howrah. But it is very picturesque to look at the upcountry train with its vari-coloured turbaned Hindoostanee passengers. They use here wood instead of coal, and the great evil of it is, that you are liable to catch fire from the sparks—sometimes pieces of red-hot charcoal—from the engine. The other day, as a detachment of Sikh soldiers were going up-country, one of them had his clothes set on fire by the embers. All his comrades were dressed in cotton-quilted tunics, with their pouches full of ammunition; and in their alarm they adopted the notable device of pitching the man out of the window, in order to get rid of the danger to which they were exposed.'

There now lay before us the prospect of the extensive, beautiful, and historic valley of the Doab—the Anterved of the ancient Hindoos. From the narrow point in The Valley of the Doab.


which it has terminated, the valley broadens as it stretches away towards the west, embracing a greater and greater area between the Ganges and Jumna, that form the highways of nature,-while the rail laid across between them forms the rival highway of man. The whole of its immense superficies forms a vast, populous, and busy hive, enriched by human industry, and embellished by human taste. On the map, no country is so thickly dotted with great townships and cities,--and under the sun, no country makes up such a highly interesting prospect of green fields, orchards, and gardens, in a continuous succession. In this fair saranah man has had his abode from a remote antiquity, to reap rich harvests, and live amidst plenty. Here were the cities of the pre-Vedic Dasyas. Here rose the first cities of the Aryas. In the plains of the Doab, the Rajahs of Hastinapoor, of Indraprasthra, and of Kanouge, exhibited the highest power and splendour of Hindoo sovereignty. The rich districts watered by the Ganges and Jumna have always tempted the avarice of the foreign conqueror. To these regions did Alexander point as the utmost goal of his ambition.

Here was the residence of the most famous Hindoo

From this birth-place of arts and civilization has wisdom travelled to the West. The Doab is the battle-ground of the Pandoo against the Kuru—of the Ghiznivide and Ghorian against the Hindoo—of the Mogul against the Patan-of the Mahratta against the Mogul—and of the English against the Mahratta. Nowhere in India is the traveller so much interested as in this valley,--where


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