A Juggler-Poses Plastiques-Entrance to Palace-Dewán Am-Emperor's Throne-Mosaics-Drawing first Blood-A Paradise on Earth-Peacock Throne-A Microcosmic View of the Mogul Empire-Shah Jehan in State-A Hundred Years Later -Native Tact-The Glory has Departed-Maharattas in the Palace-Gholam Kadur, the Rohilla, seated on the Royal Throne-Restoration of the Empire by the British -Their Majesties, and their "Particular Slaves"-The last Emperor-The last Tenants of the Dewán Khas-The Pearl Mosque-Palace Gardens-The Jumma Musjeed -View from Minár-Moosulman Worship-Feerooz's Walking Stick-Hoomaioon's Tomb-Chubootras-Peculiarities of Mahommedan Architecture-Capture of the King of Delhi.

THE next morning I had a juggler to perform for me, who did some most wonderful tricks with almost no preparation or means of deception. There came also to the bungalow some nach girls of a low class, who danced and sang-both indifferently; but afterwards they performed some feats, showing that wonderful suppleness which is so remarkable in all natives, but especially in this class. I put a four-ana bit (about as large as a dime) upon the ground. The girl then placed one foot on each side of it, and standing up, bent gradually backward until her head came between her legs; she then caught the silver piece in her eyelids and resumed the upright position. The performance was afterwards repeated, with variations, the paolee (four-ana bit) being taken up by the nostrils or ears.

Afterwards I visited the palace. I passed in my buggy through the lofty gateway and entered a small court, where I was requested to get out, as no vehicles were allowed to enter further. A number of shabby looking soldiers were lolling about. They wore a clumsily-made uniform, after the English pattern, and were Sepoys of the Emperor's army, commonly called the "Palace Guard." Captain Douglass, their com

mander, who was the first victim of the mutiny at Delhi, gave me two chobdars, or royal mace-bearers, to accompany me through the palace. They were an ill-dressed, slip-shod pair of Moosulmans, whose chief idea seemed to be "bucksees." The maces were heavy silver canes, about four feet long.

We passed through several very lofty vaulted galleries of stone, leading from one court to another, and at length emerged into a very large court, surrounded by stone buildings. Above the arched entrance is a gallery, called the Nowbut Khana, or music room, where the band used to play. On the opposite side of the court, and projecting into it from the wall of the zěnana, is an extensive square stone terrace, approached by three stairways from the court. This terrace has a stone roof, supported by many stone columns. In the wall at the back, which separates the hall thus formed from the zěnana, is a stairway that leads up to the throne, which is raised about ten feet from the ground, and covered by a canopy supported by four pillars. The canopy is all of marble, and the wall behind it is also of the same material. They are both covered with the most exquisite mosaics, representing the flowers, birds, and beasts of Hindoostan. These were executed by Austin de Bordeaux, a French jeweller of great skill, who, having committed some crimes in Europe, took refuge at the Mogul court. The throne has a doorway behind it, by which the Emperor entered from his zěnana. On the stone floor of the hall is a raised slab, on which the wuzeer stood and handed up to his imperial master the petitions which he received from the suitors below.

This hall is called the Dewán Am, or Court of Public Justice. Here the Emperor in person administered justice every day. The parties concerned were examined by the monarch himself; judgment was summarily rendered, and the sentences executed without delay.

In the great court-yard which surrounds the Dewán Am, on three sides, the cavalry and retinues of the grandees used to pass in review before the Emperor, as he sat on his throne. Here also were paraded for inspection the royal horses and elephants, covered with splendid trappings. The latter car

ried howdahs of gold or silver, their foreheads were painted with gay colours, their ears bore choúrees formed from the white bushy tail of the Thibet ox, and around their necks were suspended massive silver chains, from which hung bells which tinkled as they marched in stately procession around the area. As each elephant came before the throne, he bent one knee, raised his proboscis into the air, and trumpeted. After these came antelopes, rhinoceroses, buffaloes, leopards, and other wild animals, trained to fight each other; then followed sporting dogs of all kinds, and the procession closed with falconers, bearing on their wrists every kind of bird used in falconry.

When I visited the Dewán Am, it had not been used for many years, and was in a wholly neglected and ruinous condi tion. The mosaics were in many places picked out, the terrace was dirty and uncared for, and the great quadrangle was filled with mud huts and stables. During the recent mutiny, it has again come into use; and here, it is said, the Shahzadehs, or princes, sitting on the marble terrace, "drew the first blood" from the trembling Christians in the court below, after which they were butchered by the Khasburdars. Of this story, it may be said, "Sinon vrai, du moins vraisemblable;" if it is not true, it is one of those illustrative stories, so many of which find a place in history, and which represent individuals performing acts which typify the feelings of whole classes. At any rate, it is quite certain that, if the royal family did not take an active part in the slaughter, they, at least, gave the orders, and that, too, after the most solemn promises and oaths that the lives of all who had fled to their protection should be spared. The Khasburdars, who officiated as executioners, were the highest servants of the palace, and were allowed to perform the task as a favour, since Indian Moosulmans believe that whoever kills a Kaffur, or infidel, wipes away by the act all his previous sins.

From the Dewán Am we went into a smaller court, on one side of which, upon a terrace of pure white marble, is the Dewán Khas, or private hall-where the Emperor held his levees, and received the higher nobles to audience. It is a

square marble canopy, resting on massive square pillars and arches of the same material. The marble is very highly polished. There is but little decoration-a few exquisitely graceful flowers in mosaic work being the only ornaments. One side of the Dewán Khas opens on the court, a second side looks on the palace gardens, a third side commands a fine view of the broad Jumna, which runs below, and the fourth rests against the walls of the zenana. Between each pair of the outside rows of pillars is a very beautiful balustrade of marble, chastely carved in several designs of perforated work. The roof has at each corner a marble kiosk with a gilt dome. The shape of the building is oblong, and its greatest length not more than sixty feet. I cannot deny that my first feeling, after all the encomiums I had heard, was one of disappointment with the size.

The ceiling was once entirely composed of gold and silver filagree work, for which the goldsmiths of Delhi are still noted. In the centre stood the famous peacock throne, so called from its back being formed by jewelled representations of peacocks' tails. The throne was six feet long and four feet broad, composed of solid gold, inlaid with precious gems. It was surmounted by a gold canopy, supported on twelve pillars of the same material. Around the canopy hung a fringe of pearls, and on each side of the throne stood two chattahs, or umbrellas, the symbol of royalty; they were formed of crimson velvet, richly embroidered with gold thread and pearls, and had handles eight feet long, of solid gold, studded with diamonds. This unparalleled achievement of the jeweller's art was constructed by Austin de Bordeaux, by command of the Emperor, Shah Jehan, who founded the present city of Delhi, and built this palace. The value of the throne is estimated by Tavernier, a Frenchman who saw it, and who was himself a professional jeweller, at six millions of pounds sterling.

Here then, on this magnificent throne, in the most beautiful apartment of the grandest palace in the East, within the walls of his splendid and populous capital, sat the Emperor Shah Jehan, arrayed in the most sumptuous attire, sparkling in

jewels of unparalleled beauty, and surrounded by the pomp and state of a court, in comparison with which even the costly splendour of Louis XIV., which ruined his kingdom and dynasty, grows pale. He was at the head of an almost countless army, the absolute sovereign of one-sixth of the human race; and as he sat in state and received the homage of his powerful vassals, he must have gazed with satisfaction on the proud legend which he had caused to be inscribed on the cornice of this his presence chamber, "If there be a paradise on earth, it is here, it is here." Little did he anticipate that all this should pass away from his grasp, and that he himself, after ten years of imprisonment, would die in the fortress of Agra.

A hundred years later, Mohummud Shah, a descendant of Shah Jehan, is sitting in this same apartment. He is still surrounded by all the insignia of royalty, but beside him sits a Persian soldier, in whose hands is all the power. Nadur Shah wills to be treated as the guest of his captive, and takes a pleasure in mocking humbled royalty by allowing the conquered Emperor to preserve the outward show of authority. Coffee is brought by the highest lord of the household, but he is uncertain to whom he should first offer the fragrant beverage he knows that his head will be the penalty for the least apparent slight to either of the monarchs whom he is serving. But the native tact of the Indian Moosulman bears him safely through the trial, and with a graceful politeness that would have honoured a noble of the "old régime," he takes the salver to his old sovereign, saying as he presented it, "I know that your Majesty would not allow your distinguished guest to be served by any but your own royal hands." With a true Persian appreciation of courtly polish, Nadur Shah says to the Emperor, "If all your Majesty's servants had known their duty as well, and done it as thoroughly as this one, I should not now be sitting here."

So the coffee was served without bloodshed, and the two kings sat and sipped it, and talked together as if they were the best friends in the world. The next day Delhi was subjected to all the horrors of a general sack and massacre, and the old Emperor lay prostrate at the conqueror's feet inter