THE RESTORATION OF THE MOGHUL BUILDINGS AT AGRA. THE THE buildings within the fort of Akbar at Agra, and the TajMehal, form an architectural group of unsurpassed beauty and interest. No creed possesses a place of worship expressing a more exalted or purer spirit of devotion than the Moti Musjid. To its glittering white domes, crowned with gold, and its long, silent marble aisles, the opening line of Wordsworth's sonnet has been applied, Quiet as a nun, breathless with adoration. Nor has human love ever raised a more beautiful memorial of its joy and sorrow than The dream in marble, on the banks of the Jumna. It was my good fortune the other day to visit these buildings and the vast palaces of the fort in company with two gentlemen, to whose care the works of restoration have been entrusted by the Government of the North-Western Provinces; and it occurred to me at the time, that some account of these noble works, and what was being done to preserve them, might not be uninteresting to a portion of the English public. The fort is a spacious building of red sandstone, with battlements nearly seventy feet in height, and about a mile and a half in circuit. It was built chiefly by Akbar, the grandson of Tamerlane the Tatar, and was, for a considerable time, the principal residence of this monarch. Crossing the moat, and passing through the great barbican, known as the Delhi Gate, we arrive at an open square in front of the Diwan-i-Am, or public audience hall. To this square, doubtless, the public in former days were admitted, while high above in the open pavilion sat the Emperor, surrounded by his court. We read in Eastern tales of the king sitting in the gate' dispensing justice; and here, to the entrance of the palace, would the Great Moghul come and settle, for the sake of effect, in a summary manner, a few cases, either of a fictitious description, or carefully selected for the opportunities they afforded of eliciting a theatrical display of justice. Here, too, would the young noblemen and military adventurers display their skill in arms and horsemanship before the court; and here would the great pageant of war be mimicked, and peaceful battles fought with more than the splendour of serious hostilities. Un The so-called gates of Somnath were formerly kept here, but have now been removed to another portion of the building. It will be remembered that they were said to have been those taken by Mahmoud of Ghuznee, in A.D. 877, from a celebrated temple of the Brahmans at Pattan Somnath in Guzerat; and afterwards recovered by our victorious army from Cabul; giving Lord Ellenborough occasion to tell the Hindoos, in his famous procla mation, that the injuries of a thousand years had been avenged. fortunately, however, for the poetry of Lord Ellenborough's proclamation, these gates, although very ancient, have never been nearer Somnath than they are at the present moment. While the gates of Somnath were of sandal-wood, these, by aid of the microscope, have been proved to be of mountain pine (deodar); and a casual observer can see that the carved designs are not Hindoo, but Mahomedan. Mr. Alexander-who has charge of the restoration, and whose antiquarian knowledge and enthusiasm, in addition to his professional skill as an engineer, eminently fit him for the work-has had these gates, which were in the last stage of decay, repaired; and he intends placing them with a number of other objects of interest in a room of the palace, to be set apart as a museum. To return to the Diwan-i-Am, I may mention that, although not so large as the great public reception rooms of some European sovereigns, it is still a very noble hall, 200 feet in length, and 75 in breadth. The roof is supported by forty pillars, which were bricked up in front at the Mutiny to form an armoury; the open square in front being also closed to the public. It is only now, therefore, that the place, for many years, can be viewed in its original condition. Lord Ellenborough held a durbar here, seated on the throne of the Moghul Emperors; and it is not unlikely that in the ensuing cold season Lord Northbrook may here receive the tributary princes of Rajputana. Leaving the Diwan-i-Am, we pass into the palace gardens. On the left is seen a singularly beautiful marble cupola of a design almost purely European. Part of it had fallen, and it was the intention of Government to send it to Allahabad; but this design was abandoned, and it has now been restored at a cost of 300l. Beyond the gardens we come to the Diwan-i-Khass, or private hall of audience. This is an exquisite chamber of white marble, divided into aisles by long lines of pillars of wonderful beauty. The marble is everywhere relieved by graceful floral designs, formed of countless blood-stones, agates, cornelians, lapis-lazuli, and other precious stones, inlaid with marvellous art. This hall was rapidly falling into decay. But a new roof-an iron roof-(not perhaps quite in keeping with the rest of the building, but sufficient to preserve it from decay), now covers it; and the whole has been thoroughly repaired at a cost of some 2,000l. We now pass up to the Summan Boorj, overlooking and commanding a splendid Here, huge view of the Jumna. blocks of Jeypore marble are lying about, and growing into shape in the hands of native artizans, working with tools of the most primitive appearance. We seem to be at the building of the palace. There is nothing to remind us of modern times. Boats of grotesque shape, laden with corn, are floating lazily down on the bosom of the river. At the neighbouring ghâts, pious Hindoos are bathing in the sacred waters, or, seated on little platforms, a yard or two from shore, are mumbling their prayers. Beside me is a Musulman stonecutter, placing his forehead on the earth as he repeats the name of Allah in his noon devotions. High overhead sailing on sleeping wings' the Indian kite whistles that sad air of his, which once heard can never be forgotten. There is neither sight nor sound to remind me that I am in the nineteenth century, and that Akbar has been sleeping in his grave more than three hundred years. But the workmen busy around me are not the servants of Akbar, but are employed by Sir William Muir, one of the satraps of Akbar's successor, Lord Northbrook. They are restoring the Summan Boorj, a delightful little marble summer house; to which the ladies of the court had access. I dare say they would come and sit here of a summer evening to enjoy the breeze from the river, and watch the swallows darting down madly from the eaves to skim the surface of the water. It must have been a charming little retreat. is an octagonal room, built on one of the bastions of the fort, and is surmounted by a cupola with a gilded dome. Its white marble walls are everywhere inlaid in the richest style of Florentine mosaic. Geometric designs, plain borders, and wreaths of flowers, wrought in coloured marbles, jasper, onyx, cornelian, carbuncles, malachite, and lapis lazuli, adorn every part. It Here that Jehan would have sat, looking along the stream of the Jumna-have watched the erection of the Taj-Mehal; or played on the marble chequered floor outside the game of 'puchesse' (a kind of chess) with his women. And the boatmen, floating lazily down, might have heard now and then, snatches of Persian song proceeding from yon little tower high up in the great moonlit imperial palace. The restoration of this portion of the palace will also cost, it is estimated, 2,000l. Leaving this charming little summer drawing-room, we may take a peep at the harem bath-room. It is a large, dimly-lighted chamber, covered with paintings and mirrors, in which many a lovely female form has doubtless been reflected. The water as it enters is made to fall in cascades over rows of lamps, to which, when we add groups of dripping Nereids, we form a tout ensemble that almost equals the transforma tion scene of a pantomime. now proceed to the Khass Mehal, or private drawing-room. It is composed of two courts, the inner and outer; the former profusely decorated with painting and gilding, and having windows of marble trellis, and panels of white marble, thin to transparency, overlooking the river. The roof of this the Government is now restoring, at a cost of 1,000l. From the Khass Mehal we proceed through a passage and courtyard to the private apartments of the Emperor. These are of plain red sandstone. Here died Shahjehan, whose palace I have now finished describing, in virtual captivity to his son. We The palace of Jehangir stands alongside that of his son. It is distinctly Hindoo in character, and has now fallen into a state of utter dilapidation. We here find the designs of wooden buildings slavishly imitated in stone, stone beams and stone lintels. There are few arches. The roof is generally supported on massive struts of red sand stone, carved with dragons. It was here, in one of the private apartments, that the Emperor met, for the second time, Noor Jehan. When they first met she was betrothed to a nobleman, but Jehangir having procured his death, brought the beautiful bride to Agra, and after having kept her here in the palace for four years without seeing her, married her, and gave her a share in the government of the empire. Both palaces abound in secret passages. All the public chambers are connected with the harem by corridors opening on little platforms, where, as in the House of Commons, protected by a grille-here, however, of stone-from the vulgar gaze, the ladies of the court could witness the great pageants of State. Even the outer courtyard is thus connected by a long passage with the seraglio. There is a passage terminating in a little chamber separated by a stone screen from the outer world, where pretty maids-ofhonour and imperial concubines higgled with the cloth merchants of Delhi and Cashmere for shawls and brocades. Near this corner is the Nagina Musjid, a small oratory for the women, approached by winding staircases and latticed corridors; but from what one can learn of Indian ladies, it was presumably little used. It is hardly within the scope of this article to describe the Moti Musjid, as it is in need of no repair. It stands as perfect as the day when the scaffoldings were removed, and the sculptors turned to gaze on their completed work. But, as the old approach to it has been opened up, and the difficulty of obtaining access to it, which formerly existed, has been removed, I may say a few words about it, as being indirectly connected with the restoration. A distant view of it presents three domes,' seen like silvery bubbles which have rested a moment on its walls, and which the next breeze will sweep away.' Entering, you find yourself in a spacious enclosure of white marble, beyond which a step or two takes you into the Mosque proper, a broad pavilion of several aisles, separated by rows of columns which support the roof. Everything is the purest white marble-floor, pillars, roof. You can see nothing else-glittering, polished marble everywhere. It is 142 feet long by 56 feet deep; but the pillars, revealing the perspective, and the uniformity of colour, preserving the line of vision from interruption, heighten the effect. It is not its size, however, but the wonderful perfection of its proportions, and the marvellous combination of simplicity and grace, that strike every beholder. When I first saw it I felt quite overwhelmed with delight and surprise. I had never been so struck by any building, not even by the Taj. In the Moti Musjid nothing calls for your wonder or admiration but the true architectural beauties; whereas, in the Taj, one might be overcome alone by the great evidences of human labour, and by the vast wealth of gems and marble. Mr. Bayard Taylor says of this exquisite temple: To my eye it is absolutely perfect. While its architecture is the purest Saracenic, which some suppose cannot exist without ornament, it has the severe simplicity of Doric art. It has in fact nothing which can be properly called ornament. It is a sanctuary so pure and stainless, revealing soexalted a spirit of worship, that I felt humbled, as a Christian, to think that our noble religion has never inspired its architects to surpass this temple to God and Mahommed.' During the Mutiny this mosque was used as a hospital, but came out of the ordeal unscathed. Even the British soldier refrained from injuring it, either by recording his valuable signature on its walls, or chipping off fragments to preserve as relics. It has escaped the perils of war and weather, and now stands as perfect and lovely as the day on which it was completed still true to its name, 'The Pearl of Mosques.' I do not propose to enter here into any description of the Taj-Mehal. This marvellous tomb is, either from pencil or pen, a familiar object to all. I shall only conclude with a word as to the repairs it is about to undergo. During the Mutiny a great number of the precious stones with which it is inlaid, were picked out with pen-knives and other sharp instruments. When peace was restored, many of the wounds thus inflicted were closed with mortar and then painted to resemble the absent gems. It would be difficult to conceive anything in worse taste than the design or execution of this restorative work; and the Government of the North-Western Provinces have now instructed Mr. Alexander, acting in council with Mr. Keene-the author of a charming account of Agra, &c., the historian of the Moghul Empire— to restore the mosaic as far as possible to its original integrity, and to regild the great ornament that crowns the dome; and for this purpose they have set aside a sum of 7,000l. The restoration of the grandest works of the former conquerors is a graceful and generous act, the effect of which will not be thrown away upon the people. G. R. A.-M. A THREE DAYS IN SARK. BY WILLIAM FORSYTH, Q.C., LL.D. MONGST the Channel Islands by far the most interesting to our mind is Sark. No one who looks from the sea on its rock-bound coast, and sees before him only a lofty and apparently a desolate platform, with a solitary windmill on the highest point of the island, can form any idea of its hidden beauties, its retired dells, its exquisite coves and bays, its caves, its tunnels, and its creux. A flying visit in an excursion steamer, with a crowd of tourists, when the traveller goes and returns on the same day, and devotes part of it to the necessary demands of lunch or dinner, is not the way to see Sark. She conceals her charms like a coy beauty, and reveals them only to those who will take the trouble to explore them. We had often heard of the wonders of her caves, and the treasures of marine zoology to be found in their deep recesses; and being at Guernsey we determined to avail ourselves of the opportunity of quietly and leisurely devoting two or three days to a ramble over the little islet. Sark lies opposite to St. Peter's Port, the capital of Guernsey, due east, and is distant about six miles. Midway between them are the two islands of Herm and Jethou, divided by a dangerous channel, which it is only safe to take in fine weather and with a flowing tide. Herm is a mile and a half in length, and half a mile in breadth, abounding in rabbits, and famous for its beach of shells on the north side, which might rival the shelly shore of Ascension Island in the Atlantic. We saw before we left London an advertisement that Herm was to be sold by public auction, but we believe that it was bought in, and has since been disposed of by private contract. The owner will have a good house there, and live the lord of a population amounting to twenty or thirty souls. Jethou is still smaller-a mere molehill of an island-in which we think there is only one house; and there is neither pier nor harbour, so that landing is always difficult, and sometimes dangerous. Like Herm, Jethou swarms with rabbits. A boatman told us that last year he made a contract with the owner of Herm for rabbits at rod. each, and took 7,000 over to Guernsey, where he sold them for 11d. a piece, so that he cleared about 30l. by the bargain. We crossed from Guernsey to Sark in an open two-masted boat, belonging to William Purday, whose name we gladly recommend as that of an excellent seaman and thoroughly good fellow. We had a fair breeze, but hardly enough of it, and taking the channel between Herm and Jethou made the passage to Sark in an hour and a half. We had to give a wide berth to the ugly rocks that guard the north end of the island, opposite those wonderful caves called Les Boutiques, of which we shall say more by-and-by. We landed at a place called Eperqueries, on the northeast side, having to get into a cockleshell of a boat, for our two-masted lugger was too large to venture amongst the hidden rocks. Here a rough path leads winding up the cliff, and we reached the heathy summit, which reminded us us of many parts of the west coast of Scotland, and then struck into the main road, which runs in a straight line on the top from north to south, the length of the whole island being little more than three miles, and the average breadth about a mile. There is not much to attract the eye on the surface. The fields and hedges and trees are very |