gular portion of its active force. Without actual figures to depend
upon, we should say that the English troops in India to-day must
aggregate between forty and fifty thousand of all arms. When we realize
the awful cruelty and blood-thirstiness of the natives in the rebellion
of 1857, their diabolical and deliberate murder of innocent women and
children, under the most revolting circumstances, we cannot look upon
them as a people striking for liberty, or worthy of it, but as a base,
degraded, ignorant, and fanatical race, utterly unfit for
self-government. In this light English rule in India is according to
the eternal fitness of things.

One day was sufficient for us to see and understand the subjects of
interest at Cawnpore, and we took passage by the East Indian Railway for
Delhi, a distance of less than three hundred miles, over a very level
and rather monotonous stretch of country. This city, which is located on
the Jumna, also played a most important part in the great mutiny, the
events of which are too fresh in the memory of the world to require
special mention; but aside from those associations it has many and grand
monuments to engage the attention of the traveler, connecting the ages
far back of the Christian era with to-day, it having been for centuries
the proudest capital of the Mogul Empire. Within a circle of twenty
miles about the present city, one dynasty after another has established
its capital, ruled in splendor, and passed away. Instead of occupying
the same site, each has founded a new city, leaving the old to crumble
into dust, scattering their debris over the plain, and telling of the
mutability of human temples. All this ground is now abandoned to an army
of foxes, jackals, and owls. Could this archaeological soil be plowed up,
and its ancient monuments, palaces, tombs, and mosques exhumed, like the
dwellings of Pompeii, what might not be revealed of the hidden past?

One monument which was visited in the environs has thus far defied the
destructive fingers of time: the Katub Minar stood alone in the midst of
ruins, the loftiest single column in the world, but of which there is no
satisfactory record. It is not inappropriately considered one of the
wonders of India, and whoever erected it achieved an architectural
triumph of gracefulness and strength. It is built of red stone,
elaborately finished in the form of a minaret, measuring about fifty
feet in diameter at the base, and ten at the top, a