Shah Jehan never began his mausoleum on the other side of the river, wanting too early a tomb for himself. He was laid by the side of his lost bride, the tomb being magnificent enough even for emperor. It stands on the left-hand side, leaving Noor-Jehan's undisturbed in the centre, and bears an inscription, of which the following is a rough translation:

"The Magnificent Tomb of the King, Inhabitant of the two Heavens, Ridevun and Khool; the Most Sublime Sitter on the throne in the starry heavens, dweller in Paradise, Shah Jehan Badshah Gazee. Peace to his remains, Heaven is for him. His death took place the 26th day of Rujub, in the year 1076 of the Hijree (A.D. 1665). From this transitory world eternity has marched him off to the next."

Each grave is covered by an immense block of marble exquisitely inlaid. A marble screen carved so delicately that it looks like a web of lace-work encircles the cenotaphs that stand in the centre of the marble hall above the vault. The walls of this larger chamber are inlaid to the roof, which rises in a dome over the cenotaphs. This marble dome possesses amidst other beauties the most melodious echo ever heard. A single

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note sung below it is repeated as if by an angelic choir, dying away in the faintest faroff trill.

The building of the Taj occupied twenty thousand workmen twenty-two years, and cost three millions sterling, even in the age when there were no trades unions and no possibility of strikes. Some details are preserved in a Persian manuscript of contemporary date. The yellow marble cost £4 per square yard; the black marble cost £9; the crystal £57; the lapis lazuli £115. Whatever might have been the wages of the workmen, the masters of art were paid on an imperial scale considering the value of money at that date. The overseer was paid at the rate of £100 a month, a similar wage being allotted to the chief illuminator and the master mason.

It is perhaps interesting to add that the platform of red sandstone on which the Taj stands measures 964 by 329 feet; that the terrace of white marble built on this platform and from which the beautiful structure rises is 313 feet square; that the roof is uplifted 70 feet from the terrace; that the dome-70 feet in diameter-is 120 feet high; and that the gilt crescent which surmounts the dome is 260 feet from the ground. The perfection of the architect's art is told in the fact that

one looking upon the building does not think whether it is large or small or of any geometrical shape. It is simply perfect, something to be seen not once but a hundred times in all the varied aspects of weather and hour. It is a chameleon among architectural works. In the early morning whilst dawn is breaking it seems coloured a light blue. Rose-tinted beneath the rising sun, dazzling white at noon-tide, violet colour before an impending storm, crimson at sunset, pearly white under the moonlight, always a thing of beauty, a joy for ever.

CHAPTER XIX.

DELHI.

WAITING for the train at Agra, hanging with Hindoos and Moslems on the bridge, I saw a sight doubtless familiar enough in this ancient stronghold of the Mahomedan faith, but fresh and marvellous to Western eyes. As the train drew up there poured from it the incessant stream of third-class passengers which, coming and going, is the fount of the wealth of Indian railways. When the stream began to fail, four men, carrying two kangos chairs, approached the end compartment of a third-class carriage, out of which was projected the head of a grim old man, becomingly attired in white turban and flowing robe of bright pea-green. The old gentleman got out when the coolies came up, and a great white sheet was produced. This was carefully elevated so as to touch the top of the carriage, . the lower end draping the chairs and hiding

them from view. The old gentleman, who had been hovering around the group cackling like an old hen whose chickens were giving her trouble, now disappeared behind the sheet, which was violently agitated from within.

There was certainly some one there, and underneath the lowest fold of the sheet I caught sight of a bare foot which was a great deal too small to belong to the old gentleman. After the space of a moment the sheet was withdrawn, and presto! there was no one there but the old gentleman, looking heated and flurried. Whilst I was watching this native conjurer, the coolies picked up the two kangos, which were jealously closed in with red cloth, and rapidly moved off, the old gentleman hitching up his pea-green gown and hobbling after them, the furrows on his face visibly deepening as he made his way through the crowd, his eyes fixed upon the coolies and their presumably precious burdens. When he had seen them clear out of the station, the indefatigable old gentleman trotted back to the carriage, and, getting in, shut the door after him.

The compartment was hidden from the view of other occupants of the carriage by means of a black cloth fastened across the iron-work that divides third-class

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