ng
minarets,--it is this, together with the noble admixtures of reds,
whites and blacks in the stones, crowned by the shining of the gilded
minaret-shafts, which fills the eye of the beholder with a large
content of beautiful form and color.

As one's eye becomes cooler one begins to distinguish in the front,
which is faced with slabs of pure white marble, the divisions adorned
by inscriptions from the Koran inlaid in letters of black marble,
and the singularly airy little pavilions which crown the minarets. We
ascended one of the minarets by a winding staircase of one hundred
and thirty steps, and here, while our gaze took flight over Delhi and
beyond, traversing in a second the achievements of many centuries
and races, Bhima Gandharva told me of the glories of old Delhi.
Indranechta--as Delhi appears in the fabulous legends of old India,
and as it is still called by the Hindus--dates its own birth as far
back as three thousand years before our era. It was fifty-seven years
before the time of Christ that the name of Delhi began to appear in
history. Its successive destructions (which a sketch like this cannot
even name) left enormous quantities of ruins, and as its successive
rebuildings were accomplished by the side of (not upon) these remains,
the result has been that from the garden of Shahlimar, the site of
which is on the north-west of the town, to beyond the Kantab Minar,
whose tall column I could plainly distinguish rising up nine miles
off to the south-west, the plain of Delhi presents an accumulation and
variety of ruins not to be surpassed in the whole world.

LIFE-SAVING STATIONS.

With their enthusiasm fairly kindled for the work which the government
carries on in the signal-service department of the little house on the
beach,[A] our exploring party descended the narrow ladder and found
themselves in a ten-by-twelve room, warmed by a stove and surrounded
by benches. It is used, the old captain who has volunteered as guide
tells us, by the men on the life-saving service during the nine months
in which they are on duty. A cheerful fire was burning in the stove,
and we gathered about it: the wind blew a stronger gale each moment
outside, barring out the far sea-horizon with a wall of gray mist. The
tide rolled up on the shelving beach beneath the square window with a
sullen, treacherous roar.

"It's the bar that gives the sea that sound," said the captain. "This
is the ugliest bit of coast for vessels