of the Taj.  It is of coarse dolomite, and has become a good deal discoloured by time, so as to give it the appearance, which Bishop Heber noticed, of potted meat.  The neck is not quite so long as that of the Taj, and is better covered by the marble cupolas that stand above each face of the building.  The four noble minarets are, however, wanting.  The apartments are all in number and form exactly like those of the Taj, but they are somewhat less in size.  In the centre of the first floor lies the beautiful marble slab that bears the date of this small pillar of a tottering state, A.H. 1167;[5] and in a vault underneath repose his remains by the side of those of one of his grand-daughters.  The graves that cover these remains are of plain earth strewed with fresh flowers, and covered with plain cloth.  About two miles from this tomb to the east stands that of the father of Akbar, Humayun, a large and magnificent building.  As I rode towards this building to see the slab that covers the head of poor Dara Shikoh, I frequently cast a lingering look behind to view, as often as I could, this very pretty imitation of the most beautiful of all the tombs of the earth.[6]

On my way I turned in to see the tomb of the celebrated saint, Nizam-ud-din Aulia, the defeater of the Transoxianian army under Tarmah Shirin in 1303, to which pilgrimages are still made from all parts of India.[7] It is a small building, surmounted by a white marble dome, and kept very clean and neat.[8] By its side is that of the poet Khusru, his contemporary and friend, who moved about where he pleased through the palace of the Emperor Tughlak Shah the First, five hundred years ago, and sang extempore to his lyre while the greatest and the fairest watched his lips to catch the expressions as they came warm from his soul.  His popular songs are still the most popular; and he is one of the favoured few who live through ages in the every-day thoughts and feelings of many millions, while the crowned heads that patronized them in their brief day of pomp and power are forgotten, or remembered merely as they happened to be connected with them.  His tomb has also a dome, and the grave is covered with rich brocade,[9] and attended with as much reverence and devotion as that of the great saint himself, while those of the emperors, kings, and princes that have been crowded around them are entirely disregarded.  A number of people are employed to read the Koran over the grave of the old saint (scil. Nizam-ud-din), who died A.H. 725 [A.D. 1324-5], and are paid by contributions from the present Emperor, and the members of his family, who occasionally come in their hour of need to entreat his intercession with the Deity in their favour, and by the humble pilgrims who flock from all parts for the same purpose.  A great many boys are here educated by those readers of their sacred volume.  All my attendants bowed their heads to the dust before the shrine of the saint, but they seemed especially indifferent to those of the royal family, which are all open to the sky.  Respect shown or neglect towards them could bring neither good nor evil, while any slight to the tomb of the crusty old saint might be of serious consequence.