From Egypt to Japan Part 8

Nor can I overlook our countrywomen in Allahabad. There is here a "Zenana Mission," supported by the society of the good Mrs. Doremus, and also two ladies connected with the Presbyterian Board, one of whom, Miss Wilson, devotes herself to visiting in the Zenanas, while the other, Miss Seward, is a physician, practising with great success in many of the best native families, thus rendering a physical as well as a spiritual service. She is a niece of the late Secretary of State, William H. Seward, who when in India paid her a visit, and was so impressed with what she was doing so quietly and yet so effectively; with the access which her medical skill and her feminine tact gave her to the interior life of the people; that on his return to America he summed up the result of all his observations of missions in this brief counsel: "Make all your missionaries women, and give them all a medical education."

Allahabad has a proud name--the City of G.o.d; but one sees not much to render it worthy of that exalted t.i.tle. It is however, in the estimation of the Hindoos a sacred city, as it stands at the junction of the Jumna and the Ganges, the two sacred rivers of India, which issuing out of the glaciers of the Himalayas, hundreds of miles to the north, here unite, and flow on in a broader stream, and with an increased volume of sanct.i.ty. The point of junction is of course a very holy place--one of the most sacred in India--and draws to it more pilgrims than Mecca. Every year hundreds of thousands of pilgrims, come from all parts of India to bathe in these holy waters. This is the Mela--or great religious festival--which was now in progress. The missionaries congratulated us that we had arrived at such an opportune moment, as we had thus an opportunity of witnessing a spectacle which would show more of Hindooism than any other that we could see in India, unless it might be in the holy city of Benares.

On a Sat.u.r.day evening we rode down to the place of the encampment, which we found covering a wide sandy plain at the junction of two rivers. It was a camp-meeting of magnificent dimensions. The tents or booths were laid out in streets, and sometimes grouped in a hollow square, which for the time being was a compact and populous city. As the evening was not the hour for bathing, we did not go down to the river bank, but strolled among the camps to see the people. At every tent fires were burning, and they were cooking their food.

Our friends led the way to the camp of the Sikhs, the famous warrior race of the Punjaub, who form a sect by themselves, and, strange to say, are not idolators. They follow the teachings of a prophet of their own, and like the Mohammedans, make it a special virtue, that they do not wors.h.i.+p idols. But the old instinct is too strong for them, and while they do not bow to images, they pay a reverence to their sacred book--the writings of their teacher--which is little short of idolatry. At several places in their camp was something like an altar, a raised platform which was too holy for us to ascend, where sat a priest reading from this volume, before which all knelt as at the shrine of a saint, while they scattered flowers around it as a kind of incense or adoration.

In other parts of the camp men were blowing horns and making all sorts of hideous noise, as an intense way of offering devotions. This mockery of religion moved the indignation of our friends, who opened their mouths boldly in exposure of such folly and superst.i.tion, but they found that those whom they addressed did not shrink from the encounter.

Some of them were very keen in argument. They have a subtle philosophy at the bottom of their wors.h.i.+p, which they explained with a good deal of ingenuity, and tried to illumine by apt a.n.a.logies and ill.u.s.trations.

Like all Hindoos, they were most liberal in their tolerance of other religions--much more so than the Mohammedans--generously conceding that our religion was best _for us_, while claiming that theirs was best _for them_. They did not try to convert us, and saw no reason why we should try to convert them. This was the Broad Church indeed, large enough for "all sorts and conditions of men." They even went further, and paid us not only the respect due to men, but to G.o.ds. One of the fakirs said to us in so many words: "You are G.o.d and I am G.o.d!" This tells the whole story in a sentence. Their creed is the baldest Pantheism: that G.o.d is in everything, and therefore everything is G.o.d.

As all life comes from Him, He is in everything that lives--not only in man, but in beasts, and birds, and reptiles. All alike are incarnations of a Divine life, and hence all alike are fit objects of adoration. Man can adore himself. He need not carry any burden of sorrow or guilt; he need not know repentance or shame; for how can he mourn for impulses which are but the inspirations of the G.o.d in him, or for acts which are but the manifestations of the Universal Soul?

This was our first close contest with Hindooism, but still we had not seen the Mela till we had seen the bathing of the pilgrims in the Ganges, which was still in reserve. The Festival lasts a month--like the Ramadan of the Mohammedans--and is regulated by the changes of the moon. The day of the new moon, which was last Wednesday, was the great day of the feast. On that day there was a grand procession to the river, in which there were twenty-five elephants, mounted by their _mahants_ (a sort of chief priests), with hundreds of fakirs on foot, and a vast crowd in all the frenzy of devotion. On Monday, as the moon was approaching her first quarter, there was likely to be a large concourse, though not equal to the first, and we made arrangements to be on hand to witness a spectacle such as we had never seen before, and should probably never see again. Rev. Mr. Holcomb came very early in the morning with his carriage, to take us to the riverside. As we drove along the roads, we pa.s.sed thousands who were flocking to the place of bathing. Some rode in ox-carts, which carried whole families; now and then a mounted horseman dashed by; while a long row of camels told of a caravan that had toiled wearily over a great distance, perhaps from the foot of the Himalayas or the Vale of Cashmere, to reach the sacred spot. But the greater part of those who came were on foot, and looked like pilgrims indeed. Most of them carried on their shoulders a couple of baskets, in one of which was their food, and in the other the ashes of their dead, which they had brought from their homes, sometimes hundreds of miles, to cast into the sacred waters of the Ganges.

The carriage brought us only to the Bund, near the Fort--a huge embankment of earth raised to keep out the waters at the time of the annual risings, and which during the past year had saved the city from inundation. Here our friends had provided an elephant to take us through the crowd. The huge creature was waiting for us. The mahout who stood at his head now mounted in an extraordinary manner. He merely stepped in front of the elephant, and took hold of the flaps of his ears, and put up a foot on his trunk, which the beast raised as lightly as if the man had been a feather, and thus tossed his rider upon his head. A word of command then brought him to his knees, when a ladder was placed against his side, and we climbed to the top, and as he rose up, were lifted into the air. An elephant's back is a capital lookout for observation. It raises one on high, from which he can look down upon what is pa.s.sing below; and the mighty creature has not much difficulty in making his way through even the densest crowd. He moved down the embankment a little slowly at first, but once on level ground, he strode along with rapid strides; while we, sitting aloft, regarded with amazement the scene before us.

Indeed it was a marvellous spectacle. Here was a vast camp, extending from river to river. Far as the eye could reach, the plain was covered with tents and booths. We had no means of estimating the number of people present. Mr. Kellogg made a rough calculation, as he stood in his preaching tent, and saw the crowd pouring by. Fixing his eye on the tent-pole, with watch in hand, he counted the number that pa.s.sed in a minute, and found it to be a hundred and fifty, which would make nine thousand in an hour. If this steady flow were kept up for four hours (as it began at daylight, and was continued, though with varying volume, through the forenoon), it would make thirty-six thousand; and reckoning those encamped on the ground at twenty thousand, the whole number would be over fifty thousand.

This is a very small number, compared with that present at some times.

Last Wednesday it was twice as great, and some years the mult.i.tude--which overflows the country for miles, like an inundation of the Ganges--has been estimated at hundreds of thousands, and even millions. Every twelve years there is a greater Mela than at other times, and the concourse a.s.sumes extraordinary proportions. This came six years ago, in 1870. That year it was said that there were present 75,000 fakirs alone, and on the great day of the feast it was estimated that a million of people bathed in the Ganges. So fearful was the crush that they had to be marshalled by the police, and marched down to the river by ten or twenty thousand at a time, and then across a bridge of boats to the other side, returning by another way, so as to prevent a collision of the entering and returning ma.s.s, that might have occasioned a fearful loss of life. That year it was estimated that not less than two millions of pilgrims visited the Mela. Allowing for the common exaggeration in estimating mult.i.tudes, there is no doubt whatever that the host of pilgrims here has often been "an exceeding great army."

I could not but look with pity at the ignorant creatures flocking by, but the feeling of pity changed to disgust at the sight of the priests by whom they were misled. Everywhere were fakirs sitting on the ground, receiving the reverence of the people. More disgusting objects I never looked upon, not even in an asylum for the insane. They were almost naked; their hair, which they suffer to grow long, had become tangled and knotted, and was matted like swamp gra.s.s, and often bound round with thick ropes; and their faces smeared with filth. The meagerness of their clothing is one of the tokens of their sanct.i.ty.

They are so holy that they do not need to observe the ordinary rules of decency. Yet these filthy creatures are regarded not only with reverence, but almost wors.h.i.+pped. Men--and women also--stoop down and kiss their feet. On Wednesday some three hundred of these fakirs marched in procession _absolutely naked_, while crowds of women prostrated themselves before them, and kissed the very ground over which they had pa.s.sed. One is amazed that such a disgusting exhibition was not prevented by the police. Yet it took place under the guns of an English fort, and--greatest shame of all--instead of being suppressed, was accompanied and protected by the police, which, though composed of natives, wore the uniform, and obeyed the orders, of Christian England! There are not many sights which make one ashamed of the English government in India, but surely this is one of them.[1]

How such "brute beasts" can have any respect or influence, is one of the mysteries of Hindooism. But the common people, ignorant and superst.i.tious, think these men have a power that is more than human, and fear to incur their displeasure. They dread their curses: for these holy men have a fearful power of imprecation. Wherever they stroll through the country, no man dares to refuse them food or shelter, lest one of their awful curses should light upon his head, and immediately his child should die, or disaster should overtake his house.

But let us pa.s.s on to the banks of the river, where the crowd is already becoming very great. To go among them, we get down from our elephant and walk about. Was there ever such a scene--men, women, and children, by tens of thousands, in all stages of nakedness, pressing towards the sacred river? The men are closely shaved, as for every hair of their heads they gain a million of years in Paradise! Some had come in boats, and were out in the middle of the stream, from which they could bathe. But the greater part were along the sh.o.r.e. The water was shallow, so that they could wade in without danger; but to afford greater security, lines of boats were drawn around the places of bathing, to keep them from drowning and from suicide.

It would not have been easy to make our way through such a crowd, had not the native police, with that respect for Englishmen which is seen everywhere in India, cleared the way for us. Thus we came down to the water's edge, pa.s.sing through hundreds that were coming up dripping from the water, and other hundreds that were pressing in. They were of all ages and s.e.xes. It was hard to repress our disgust at the voluntary debas.e.m.e.nt of men who might know better, but with these there were some wretched objects, who could only excite our pity--poor, haggard old women, who had dragged themselves to this spot, and children borne on their mothers' shoulders! In former times many infants were thrown into the Ganges. This was the most common form of infanticide. But this practice has been stopped by the strong hand of the government. And now they are brought here only to "wash and be cleansed." Even the sick were carried in palanquins, to be dipped in the healing waters; and here and there one who seemed ready to die was brought, that he might breathe his last in sight of the sacred river.

I observed a great number of flags flying from tall poles in different parts of the ground, which made the place look like a military encampment. These marked the headquarters of the men who get up these Melas, and in so doing contrive to unite business with religion.

During the year they perambulate the country, drumming up pilgrims. A reputation for sanct.i.ty is a stock in trade, and they are not too modest to set forth their own peculiar gifts, and invite those who come to the holy water to repair to their shop, where they can be "put through" in the shortest time, and for the least money. This money-making feature is apparent in all the arrangements of these pious pilgrimages.

In keeping with these coa.r.s.er features of the scene, was the presence of dancing girls, who gathered a group around them close to the bathing places, and displayed their indecent gestures on the banks of the holy river, to those who had just engaged in what they considered an act of moral purification.

In other parts of the camp, retired from the river, was carried on the business of "religious instruction." Here and there pundits, or learned Brahmins, surrounded by large companies, chiefly of women, were reading from the Shasters, which, considering that they got over the ground with great velocity, could hardly be very edifying to their hearers. This mattered little, however, as these sacred books are in Sanscrit, which to the people is an unknown tongue.

I was glad to see that these blind leaders of the blind did not have it all their own way. Near by were the preaching-tents of several missionaries, who also drew crowds, to whom they spoke of a better religion. Among them was Rev. Mr. Macombie, who is a famous preacher.

He is a native of India, and is not only master of their language, but familiar with their ideas. He knows all their arguments and their objections, and if a hearer interrupts him, whether a Hindoo, or a Mohammedan, he is very apt to get a shot which makes him sink back in the crowd, glad to escape without further notice. Whether this preaching converts many to Christianity, there can be no doubt that it diffuses a widespread sense of the folly of these Melas, and to this as one cause may be ascribed the falling-off in the concourse of pilgrims, who were formerly counted by millions and are now only by hundreds of thousands.

While "religion" thus went on vigorously, business was not forgotten.

In the remoter parts of the camp it was turned into a market-place. A festival which brings together hundreds of thousands of people, is an occasion not to be lost for traffic and barter. So the camp becomes a huge bazaar (a vast fair, such as one may see in America at a cattle show or a militia muster), with streets of shops, so that, after one has performed his religious duties, as he comes up from the holy waters and returns to "the world," he can gratify his pride and vanity by purchasing any quant.i.ty of cheap jewelry.

There are shops for the sale of idols. We could have bought a lovely little beast for a few pence. They are as "cheap as dirt;" in fact, they are often made of dirt. As we stood in front of one of the shops, we saw a group rolling up a little ball of mud, as children make mud pies; who requested a lady of our party to step one side, as her shadow, falling on this holy object, polluted it!

It is hard to believe that even the most ignorant and degraded of men can connect such objects with any idea of sacredness or religion. And yet the wretched-looking creatures seemed infatuated with their idolatries. To bathe in the Ganges washes away their sins. It opens to them the gates of paradise. Such value do they attach to it that even death in its sacred waters is a privilege. Formerly suicides were very frequent here, till they were stopped by the Government. Fanaticism seems to destroy the common sympathies of life. Last Wednesday, while the great procession was in progress, a fire broke out in one of the booths. As they are made of the lightest material it caught like tinder, and spread so rapidly that in a few minutes a whole camp was in a blaze. But for the presence of mind and energy of a few English soldiers from the Fort who were on the ground, and who seized an engine, and played upon the burning wood and thatch, the entire encampment might have been destroyed, involving an appalling loss of life. As it was, some thirty perished, almost all women. Mr. Kellogg came up in time to see their charred and blackened remains. Yet this terrible disaster awakened no feeling of compa.s.sion for its victims.

They were accounted rather favored beings to have perished in such a holy spot. Thus does the blindness of superst.i.tion extinguish the ordinary feelings of humanity.

Weary and heart-sick at such exhibitions of human folly, we mounted our elephant to leave the ground. The n.o.ble beast, who had waited patiently for us (and was duly rewarded), now seemed as if he could stand it no longer, and taking us on his back, strode off as if disgusted with the whole performance, and disdaining the society of such debased human creatures.

This Mela, with other things which I have seen, has quite destroyed any illusions which I may have had in regard to Hindooism. In coming to India, one chief object was to study its religion. I had read much of "the mild Hindoo" and "the learned Brahmin," and I asked myself, May not their religion have some elements of good? Is it not better at least than no religion? But the more I study it the worse it seems. I cannot understand the secret of its power. I can see a fascination in Romanism, and even in Mohammedanism. The mythology of the Greeks had in it many beautiful creations of the imagination. But the G.o.ds of the Hindoos are but deified beasts, and their wors.h.i.+p, instead of elevating men intellectually or morally, is an unspeakable degradation.

Hindooism is a mountain of lies. It is a vast and monstrous system of falsehood, kept in existence mainly for the sake of keeping up the power of the Brahmins. Their capacity for deceit is boundless, as is that of the lower castes for being deceived. Of this I have just had a specimen. In the fort here at Allahabad is a subterranean pa.s.sage which is held in the highest veneration, as it is believed that here a river flows darkly underground to join the sacred waters of the Jumna and the Ganges, and here--prodigy of nature--is a sacred tree, which has been here (they tell us) for hundreds of years, and though buried in the heart of the earth, still it lives. It is true it does show some signs of sap and greenness. But the mystery is explained when the fact comes out that the tree is changed every year. The sergeant-major, who has been here four years, told me that he had himself given the order three times, which admitted the party into the Fort at midnight to take away the old stump and put in a fresh tree!

He said it was done in the month of February, so that with the first opening of spring it was ready to bloom afres.h.!.+ How English officers can reconcile it with their honor to connive at such a deception--even though it be to please the Brahmins--I leave them to explain. But the fact, thus attested, is sufficient to show the unfathomable lying of this ruling caste of India, and the immeasurable credulity of their disciples.

A religion that is founded on imposture, and supported by falsehood, cannot bear the fruits of righteousness. In the essence of things truth is allied to moral purity. Its very nature is "sweetness and light." But craft and deceit in sacred things breed a vicious habit of defending by false reasoning what an uncorrupted conscience would reject; and the holy name of religion, instead of being a sacrament of good, becomes a sacrament of evil, which is used to cover and consecrate loathsome immoralities. Thus falsehood works like poison in the blood, and runs through every vein till the whole moral being is spotted with leprosy.

FOOTNOTE:

[1] That we may not do injustice, we add the excuse which is given, which is, that such attendance of the police is necessary to prevent a general melee and bloodshed. It seems that these fakirs, holy as they are, belong to different sects, between which there are deadly feuds, and if left to themselves unrestrained, when brought into close contact in a procession, they might tear each other in pieces. But this would be no great loss to the world.

CHAPTER XII.

AGRA--VISIT OF THE PRINCE OF WALES--PALACE OF THE GREAT MOGUL--THE TAJ.

We left Allahabad at midnight, and by noon of the next day were at Agra, in the heart of the old Mogul Empire. As we approached from the other side of the Jumna, we saw before us what seemed a royal castle, of imposing dimensions, strongly fortified, with walls and moat, like one of the strongholds of the Middle Ages, a castle on the Rhine, built for a double purpose, half palace and half fortress. As we crossed the long bridge flags were flying in honor of the Prince of Wales, who had arrived the week before. His entry into this old Mogul capital was attended with a display of magnificence worthy of the days of Aurungzebe. At the station he was met by a great number of Rajahs, mounted on elephants richly caparisoned, of which there were nearly two hundred in the procession, with long suites of retainers, who escorted him to his camp outside of the city. Rev. Mr. Wynkoop (who came on a few days before to witness the fetes, and was staying with a friend who had a tent quite near to that of the Prince), met us at the station and took us out to the Royal camp. It was indeed a beautiful sight. The tents, many of which were very large, were laid off in an oblong square, with the marquee of the Prince at the end, in front of which floated the royal standard of England. The rest of the camp was laid off in streets. On the outskirts of the Maidan (or parade ground) were the military selected from different corps of the Indian army.

Some of the native troops in drill and discipline were equal to the English. The Punjaubees especially were magnificent fellows. Tall and athletic in figure, they are splendid hors.e.m.e.n, so that a regiment of Punjaubee (or Sikh) cavalry is one of the sights of India. English artillery manned the guns with which they saluted the native princes according to their rank, as they came to pay their respects. Here, on the Sat.u.r.day before, the Prince had held a grand Durbar, to which the Rajahs came riding on elephants, and each with a body-guard of cavalry, mounted sometimes on horses and sometimes on camels, making altogether such a scene of barbaric splendor as could not be witnessed in any country in the world but India.

The Prince was absent from the camp, having gone off a day or two before to pay a visit to the Maharajah of Gwalior, but an hour later, while we were making a first visit to the Taj, we heard the guns which announced his return. A day or two after we saw him starting for Jeypore, when, although he drove off in a carriage very quietly, the camels and elephants that went rolling along the different roads, as we drove out once more to the camp, told of the brilliant pageant that was ended.

This visit of the Prince of Wales is a great event. It has excited a prodigious interest in official and military circles. His progress through the country has been in a blaze of processions and illuminations. To himself it must have been very gratifying. As he said, "It had been the dream of his life to visit India." It was a matter of political wisdom that he should know it, not only through others but by personal observation. Mr. Disraeli, in proposing it in Parliament, said justly that "travel was the best education for princes." It was well that the future King of England, should make himself acquainted with the great Empire that he was one day to rule.

But whether this royal visit will result in any real benefit to India to correspond with the enormous expense it has involved, is a question which I hear a good deal discussed among Englishmen. In some ways it cannot fail to do good. It has presented to the people of India an impersonation of sovereignty, a visible representative of that mighty power, the British Empire. It has conciliated the native princes, who have been greatly pleased by the frank and manly courtesy of their future sovereign. In the art of courtesy he is a master. History will give him this rank among princes, that he was not great, but gracious.

This is a kingly virtue which it was well to have exhibited in the person of one of such exalted rank, the more as English officials in India are charged with showing, often in the most offensive way, the insolence of power. Perhaps it was on this very account that he took such pains to show a generous and even chivalrous courtesy to natives of rank, even while he did not hesitate, so I was told by Englishmen, to "snub" his own countrymen. Such a bearing has certainly commanded respect, and given him a personal popularity. But it has not converted the people to loyalty any more than to Christianity. They run to see the parades, the Rajahs, and the elephants. But as to its exciting any deeper feeling in them, no Englishman who has lived long in the country will trust to that for a moment. Even though English rule be for their own safety and protection, yet their prejudices of race and religion are stronger than even considerations of interest. It is a curious ill.u.s.tration of the power of caste that the very Rajahs who entertain the Prince of Wales with such lavish hospitality, who build palaces to receive him, and spread before him sumptuous banquets, still do not themselves sit down at the table; they will not even eat with their Royal guest; and count his touch of food, and even his shadow falling upon it, a pollution! Such a people are not to be trusted very far beyond the range of English guns. The security of English rule in India is not to be found in any fancied sentiment of loyalty, which does not exist, but in the overwhelming proof of English power. British possession is secured by the well-armed fortresses which overlook every great city, and which could lay it in ruins in twenty-four hours. The rule that was obtained by the sword, must be held by the sword.

But the interest of Agra is not in the present, but in the past. There are few chapters in history more interesting than that of the Mohammedan invasion of India--a history dating back to the Middle Ages, but culminating about the time that Columbus discovered the New World. Those fierce warriors, who had ravaged Central Asia, had long made occasional incursions into India, but it was not till the beginning of the sixteenth century that they became complete masters of the country, and the throne was occupied by a descendant of the house of Tamerlane.

The dominion thus introduced into India was an exotic, but like other products of the North, transplanted into a tropical clime, it blossomed and flowered anew. The Moguls (a corruption of Mongols) had all the wealth of Ormus and of Ind at their feet, and they lavished it with Oriental prodigality, displaying a royal state which surpa.s.sed the grandeur of European courts.

The Great Mogul! What power there is in a name! Ever since I was a child, I had read about the Great Mogul, until there was a magic in the very word. To be sure, I had not much idea who or what he was; but perhaps this vagueness itself added to the charm in my imagination. He was an Oriental potentate, living somewhere in the heart of Asia, in a pomp and glory quite unknown among barbarians of the West. He was a sort of Haroun al Raschid, whose magnificence recalled the scenes of the Arabian Nights. Even more, he was like the Grand Lama, almost an object of wors.h.i.+p. To keep up the illusion, he withdrew from observation into his Palace, where he sat like a G.o.d, rarely seen by mortal eyes, except by his court, and dwelling in unapproachable splendor.

And now here I was in the very Palace of the Great Mogul, walking through the glittering halls where he held his gorgeous revelries, entering the private apartments of his harem, and looking out of the very windows from which they looked down upon the valley of the Jumna.

The Palace is in the Citadel of Agra, for those old Emperors took good care to draw fortified walls around their palaces. The river front presents a wall sixty feet high, perhaps half a mile long, of red sandstone, which heightens by contrast the effect of the white marble pavilions, so graceful and airy-like, that rise above it. The Fort is of great extent, but it is the mere casket of the jewels within, the Palace and the Mosque, in which one may see the infinite beauty of that Saracenic architecture, which is found nowhere in Europe in such perfection, except in the Alhambra. The Mohammedan conquerors of India, like the same conquerors of Spain, had gorgeous tastes in architecture. Both aimed at the grandeur of effect produced by great size and ma.s.sive construction, combined with a certain lightness and airiness of detail, which give it a peculiar delicacy and grace. Here the imagination flowers in stone. The solid marble is made to bend in vines and wreaths that run along the walls. The spirit of Oriental luxury finds expression in cool marble halls, and open courts, with plas.h.i.+ng fountains, where the monarch could dally with the beauties of his court. In all these things the life of the Great Mogul did not differ from that of the Moorish Kings of Spain.

The glory of Agra dates from the reign of Akbar the Great who made it the capital of the Mogul Empire. He built the Fort, with its long line of castellated walls, rising above the river, and commanding the country around. Within this enclosure were buildings like a city, and open s.p.a.ces with ca.n.a.ls, among which were laid out gardens, blooming with flowers. On the river side of the Fort was a lofty terrace, on which stood the Palace, built of the purest marble. It was divided into a number of pavilions whose white walls and gilded domes glittered in the sun. Pa.s.sing from one pavilion to another over tessellated pavements, we enter apartments rich in mosaics and all manner of precious stones. Along the walls are little kiosks or balconies, the windows of which are half closed by screens of marble, which yet are so exquisitely carved and pierced as to seem like veils of lace, drawn before the flas.h.i.+ng eyes that looked out from behind them. Straying through these rich halls, one cannot but reproduce the scenes of three centuries ago, when Akbar ruled here in the midst of his court; when the beauties of his seraglio, gathered from all the East, sported in these gardens, and looked out from these latticed windows.

Of equal beauty with the palace is the mosque. It is called the Pearl Mosque, and a pearl indeed it is, such is the simplicity of outline, and such the exquisite and almost tender grace in every arch and column. Said Bishop Heber: "This spotless sanctuary, showing such a pure spirit of adoration, made me, a Christian, feel humbled when I considered that no architect of our religion had ever been able to produce anything equal to this temple of Allah."

But these costly buildings have but little use now. The Mosque is still here, but few are the Moslems who come to pray; and the palace is tenantless. The great Moguls are departed. Their last descendant was the late King of Delhi, who was compromised in the Great Mutiny, and pa.s.sed the rest of his life as a state prisoner. Not a trace remains here nor at Delhi of the old Imperial grandeur. Yet once in a long while these old palaces serve a purpose to entertain some royal guest. Last week they were fitted up for a fete given to the Prince of Wales, when the stately apartments were turned into reception rooms and banqueting halls. It was a very brilliant spectacle, as the British officers in their uniforms mingled with the native princes glittering with diamonds. But it would seem as if the old Moguls must turn in their coffins to hear this sound of revelry in their vacant palaces, and to see the places where the Mohammedan ruled so long now filled by unbelievers.

Perhaps one gets a yet stronger impression of the magnificence of the Great Mogul in a visit to the Summer Palace of Akbar at Futtehpore-Sikri, so called from two villages embraced in the royal retreat. This was the Versailles of the old Moguls. It is over twenty miles from Agra, but starting early we were able to drive there and return the same day. The site is a rocky hill, which might have been chosen for a fortress. The outer wall enclosing it, with the two villages at its foot, is nine miles in extent. The buildings were on a scale to suit the wants of an Imperial Court--the plateau of the hill being laid off in a vast quadrangle, surrounded by palaces, and zenanas for the women of the Imperial household, and mosques and tombs. Perhaps the most exquisite building of all is a tomb in white marble--the resting place of Selim, a Moslem saint, a very holy shrine to the true believers; although the Mosque is far more imposing, since before it stands the loftiest gateway in the world. Around the hill are distributed barracks for troops, and stables for horses and camels and elephants. The open court in the centre of all these buildings is an esplanade large enough to draw up an army. Here they show the spot where Akbar used to mount his elephant, and here his troops filed before him, or subject princes came with long processions to pay him homage.

As this palace was built for a summer retreat, everything is designed for coolness; pavilions, covered overhead, screen from the sun, while open at the sides, they catch whatever summer air may be stirring. In studying the architecture of the Moors or the Moguls, one cannot but perceive, that in its first inception it has been modelled after forms familiar to their nomadic ancestors. The tribes of Central Asia first dwelt in tents, and when they came to have more fixed habitations built of wood or stone, they reproduced the same form, so that the canvas tent became the marble pavilion--just as the builders of the Gothic cathedrals caught the lines of their mighty arches from the interlacing branches of trees which made the lofty aisles of the forest. So the tribes of the desert, accustomed to live in tents, when endowed with empire, falling heir to the riches of the Indies, still preserved the style of their former life, and when they could no longer dwell in tents, dwelt in tabernacles. These palaces are almost all constructed on this type. There is one building of singular structure, five stories high, which is a series of terraces, all open at the side.