presence of a minister of religion, the truly great emperor Akber breathed his last (Oct. 13, 1605), in the fiftieth year of his reign.

was

Akber was in person strong-built and handsome, and very fair, owing to his northern origin. In his youth he indulged in wine and good living, but afterwards become sober and abstemious. He delighted in the chase, especially where there was hazard and danger, as in that of the tiger and the elephant. He was fond of making long journeys on horseback, and would even sometimes walk thirty or forty miles a day. His valour chivalrous, like that of Alexander the Great; yet he was not fond of war for its own sake, and carried it on chiefly from an idea that he had a right to restore the limits of the empire. In temper, Akber was mild and magnanimous, humane and generous. He was fond of religious and philosophical disquisitions, and was most perfectly tolerant of all who differed from him in opinion.

Akber was a reformer in religion, in the revenue, and in the army.

The religious views to which Akber seems to have finally come were either pure deism, or a Mohammedanism so modified as to differ little from that system. The way in which he proceeded was to examine and hear the arguments in favour of every form of religion. His assistants in these inquiries were two brothers, named Feizi and Abûl-Fazl, sons of a man who had taught law and divinity at Agra; but who had been obliged to leave that place on account of the freedom of his religious sentiments, which had drawn on him persecution. Feizi was the first Mussulman who applied himself to Hindoo literature. He learned the Sanscrit language, and by himself or by others under his direction, translations were made of the two great epic poems, of one of the Vedas, and of several other works. Akber was also anxious to have versions made from the Greek, and a Portuguese priest, who is called Padre Farâbatûm, was invited to come from Goa, and instruct some youths, who were then to be employed in making translations from the Greek language. Feizi himself was directed to translate the Gospels.

The other brother, Abûl-Fazl, though also a man of letters, and author of the Akbernâmeh, or History of Akber, which is still extant, was a statesman and a general. Akber raised him to the office of vizir, and we have seen his unhappy fate.

Beside his confidential discussions with Feizi and Abûl-Fazl, Akber used to hold meetings on Fridays, which were attended by the learned men of his court, and he often sent for Bramins and for Mohammedan Sûfees, and heard them explain their different tenets. He invited Catholic priests from Goa, and caused them to dispute with the Mohammedan doctors in his presence. He manifested a great respect for Christianity, and it is not unlikely that, had he known it in its purity, he would have embraced it.

The creed of Akber was, as we have stated, a kind of modified deism. He endeavoured to do away with some of the Mohammedan peculiarities, and most of the peculiar obligations of that religion, such as circumcision, fasting, pilgrimage, and public worship he made to be optional. He discouraged the study of the Arabic language, and for the lunar year, the months with Arabic names, and the era of the Hijra, he introduced a solar year,

with months bearing Persian names, and commencing from the vernal equinox nearest to his accession. With respect to the Hindoos, his regulations were more of a political cast. He forbade the trial by ordeal, the burning of widows against their will, and marriage before the age of puberty. He allowed Hindoo widows to marry a second time, contrary to the preceding usage. He abolished all taxes on Hindoo pilgrims, as, in his tolerant eyes, every one had a right to serve the Deity in the manner most agreeable to his own views. He also abolished the Jezeeah, or poll-tax, which, in all Mohammedan states, is imposed on those whom the Moslems term infidels. It was the aim of Akber to make all his subjects equal, and from the very commencement of his reign he had employed Hindoos and Mussulmans alike in his service.

These innovations of the emperor naturally gave great offence to the bigoted Moslems. His religious system was besides of too pure and spiritual a character to make much progress, and it died away on the death of its founder. It, however, had some effect in promoting the progress of liberal inquiry in India.

In the revenue department of the government, Akber made great improvements in the mode of assessing and collecting the land-tax. As this is intimately connected with the village-system of India, this is perhaps the best place for giving a view of that ancient and celebrated institution.

The property in the soil in India, from the most remote ages, seems not, as in some countries, to have lain in the sovereign, or, as in others, in the occupant; but to have been a joint-possession, a certain portion of the produce belonging to the former and all the remainder to the latter, whose title to his share was as indefeasible as that of the sovereign to his portion. But these proprietors did not stand singly; union in the East is of absolute necessity for mutual defence and protection. The land, therefore, was in certain determinate and welllimited proportions, and all the proprietors belonging to it were collected into one town or village, generally about the centre of the land. Each, accordingly, formed a little republic in itself, and the aggregate of these republics formed the state; and whether this last was ruled by a Hindoo or a Mohammedan prince was a matter of comparative unimportance to the village-republic, which had only to render to it its share of the annual produce.

The village collects the revenue it has to pay to the crown and the sums required for local purposes; it maintains its own police, and it administers justice in a variety of cases among its members. For these and for other purposes various officers are required, and the following are therefore to be found in a Hindoo village.

The Headman (called in the greater part of India Patil), is, as his name denotes, the head of the village, and is its representative in all transactions with the government. He apportions and collects the revenue, lets the lands that happen to have no occupants, and acts in general as a magistrate. The Accountant, or Patwâri, keeps the records, which contain an account of all the lands and their occupants. He also keeps the private accounts of the villagers, and acts in general as a notary. The Watchman, or Pyk, &c., whose duty it is to attend to all the boundaries, both public and private, to

watch the crops, and to act under the headman as chief of police. In the performance of this duty he has the aid of all his family; for all village offices are hereditary in particular families.

Beside these three essential personages in a Hindoo village, there is the money-changer, who is also the silversmith, the priest, the astrologer, (either of which is also the schoolmaster), the smith, carpenter, worker in leather, potter, and barber; and in most villages the tailor, the washerman, physician, musician, &c.; and in the south even the dancing-girl. All of these receive a certain portion of the general produce for their maintenance.

The general term in India for the villagers is Ryots, and the persons who receive the government share of the produce are known by the Persian name of Zemindâr. When the government share of the produce of one or more villages is assigned for the payment of civil or military officers, it is named a Jagheer, and we must carefully observe that it is only this portion that the Zemindâr can demand from the villagers.

From this slight view of the village-system, we may now proceed to notice Akber's improvements. A survey was made of all the cultivable lands in the empire. They were then classed according to their fertility, and one third of the average produce was fixed as the government share. This demand however was regulated by circumstances; land, for example, which had suffered from inundation, &c., paid only two fifths for the first year, and so went on increasing till the fifth year, when it paid the full charge. The share of the state being ascertained, it was then commuted for a money-payment, an average being taken of prices for the preceding nineteen years. But if any one thought this too high, he had his option of paying in kind. The settlement was at first annual, but it was afterwards made for ten years, taking an average of the payments of the preceding ten.

The emperor's agent in this great reform, and from whom it is named, was the rajah Tôdar Mal, an eminent Hindoo, and, according to Abûl Fazl, bigotedly devoted to his religion. But the tolerant Akber saw his merits and heeded not his religious opinions.

Akber divided the empire into fifteen Sûbahs or provinces, twelve in Hindûstân and three in the Deckan, which last were increased to six by his successors. Over each was placed a governor or viceroy, named at first Sîpâh Sâlâr, but afterwards Sûbahdar, with complete civil and military authority 7. All the officers of the revenue were therefore under him, as also were the Foujdârs or military commanders of districts. An officer named Dêwân, whose business was the superintendence of the finances of the province, was afterwards introduced into the system. He was appointed by the crown, but was under the viceroy.

Instead of the preceding system of granting

7 At a later period, we believe, there was a division of the Subahs into smaller districts, over each of which was an officer, named Nabob (properly Nawab), i. e. deputy, who was appointed by the Sûbahdâr, and who had the entire civil and military power in his district. Such was the Nabob of the Carnatic, under the Sûbahdâr of the Deckan. About the middle of the eighteenth century, the titles of

Sûbahdâr and Nabob were confounded, and we meet with the Nabobs of Oude and Bengal.

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lands or assignments on the revenue for the payment of the troops, which only led to fraud and oppression, Akber issued regular pay from the treasury, and made previous musters necessary.

Though Akber was simple in his habits, his court was most splendid, and the European travellers who visited the court of his son, actually dazzle us with their accounts of the magnificence which they beheld. On the great festivals of the vernal equinox and of the king's birthday, a rich tent was pitched for the monarch, and the ground around to the extent of two acres was covered with carpets of silk and gold, and hangings of velvet embroidered with gold, and pearls, and precious stones. The king was weighed in golden scales against gold, silver, perfumes, &c., which were afterwards distributed among the spectators. The nobility also displayed all their magnificence, and diamonds and other jewels blazed on every side. Richly caparisoned elephants, lions, tigers, and other wild beasts were led past the throne, where were the king and his nobles "sparkling with diamonds like the firmament," and the procession closed with a large body of cavalry arrayed in cloth of gold.

CHAPTER X.

JEHANGIR-Prince Khusru-Nûr Jehân-Invasion of the Deckan-Prince Shâh Jehân-Mohâbut Khân-Seizure of the Emperor-Heroism of Nûr Jehân-Death of Jehângîr.

SELIM on ascending the throne took the title of Jehângîr, i. e. Conqueror of the World. He made sundry good regulations; among others, one strictly prohibiting the use of wine, and regulating that of opium. Another was of rather a curious nature. In order that complaints should be certain to reach the royal ear, he caused a chain to be hung from a part of the palace wall within the reach of every one, and communicating with a set of golden bells in his own apartment. The suitor had then only to pull the chain, and the emperor was instantly aware of his presence.

Jehângîr had been about four months on the throne, when one night he was awakened with intelligence that prince Khusru had fled from court with a few attendants, and taken the road to Delhi. He instantly sent a party in pursuit of him, and in the morning he set out in person with all the troops he could collect. The prince, meantime, went on collecting men and plundering the country, and by the time he reached the Purjâb, whither he directed his course, he had drawn together a force of 10,000 men. With these he gave battle at Lahore to the advanced guard of his father's army, but met with a total defeat, and as he was flying to Câbul he was taken, in consequence of the boat in which he was crossing the river Jelûm having gone aground, and he was brought in chains to the emperor. Jehângîr, in whose bosom there was little room for mercy, spared, no doubt, the life of his son, but he exercised his barbarity on his unfortunate adherents, 700 of whom he impaled along the road leading from one of the gates of Lahore, and he caused the prince to be

carried on an elephant along the line, with a mace-bearer calling to him in a mocking tone to receive the salutations of his servants. He was then conducted to his prison, where he passed three days in tears without tasting food. In the spring of the following year (1606), when Jehângîr visited Câbul, he ordered the prince's chains to be taken off, and allowed him to walk in a garden within the citadel. But a conspiracy to release him and to assassinate the emperor being detected, no farther indulgence was allowed.

Meantime the emperor's second son, Purvîz, who had been sent against the rana of Oudipûr, had effected an accommodation with that prince; but the war was renewed in the next year. In the Deckan the contest with the Nizâm Shâhî line of princes still continued ; and in 1600, Malik Amber, their able minister, recovered Ahmednugur and forced the Moguls to retire.

It was in the year 1611, the sixth year of his reign, that the marriage of the emperor with the celebrated Nûr Jehân, one of the most remarkable women of the East, took place-an event which had a powerful influence on the whole of his subsequent reign.

Ghyas-ud-dîn, the son of a man who had held a high government situation at Teherân, in Persia, having fallen into poverty, resolved to seek his fortune in India. Accompanied by his wife, now great with child, and his two sons, he set out for that country. On the way to Candahâr his wife was delivered of a daughter; but such was the degree of their distress, that they found it necessary to expose the new-born babe. They placed it on the road by which the caravan was to proceed next day. As it passed along, a wealthy merchant observed the babe, and struck with its beauty, he took it up and resolved to rear it. The mother presented herself and became the nurse of her own child, and the merchant thus became acquainted with the family. He relieved their distress, and finding the father and his sons men of ability, he employed them in his business. In India he recommended them to the emperor, Akber, who gave them employments; and they gradually rose by their talents to higher posts.

The infant which had been exposed, and which was named Mhîr-un-Nissa, or, Sun of Women 3, grew up a beautiful and accomplished woman. She used to accompany her mother sometimes in her visits to the ladies of Akber's harem, to which she had access, and she there was seen by prince Selîm, who became the captive of her charms. Her mother perceiving it, made the matter known through one of the ladies to Akber, who remonstrated with his son, and at the same time directed that Nûr Jehân should be married off without delay. She was accordingly united to a young Persian named Shîr Afghân Khân, to whom Akber gave a jaghîr in Bengal.

When Selîm came to the throne, he sent his foster-brother, Kûtb-ud-dîn, as viceroy to Bengal, with directions to procure him the possession of Nûr Jehan. It was hoped that the matter might be easily arranged with Shîr Khân; but he proved to be a man of honour, and he loved his beautiful

8 She was afterwards named Nûr Mahâl, or Light of the Harem; and Nûr Jehân, or Light of the World, by which last name we will henceforth designate her.

wife. Offended at the proposals made to him, he left off wearing arms, to indicate that he was no longer in the royal service; and when the viceroy, on coming to the part of the country where he resided, summoned him to his presence, he carried a concealed dagger in his dress. The result was that he stabbed the viceroy, and was himself cut to pieces by the guards. His property was seized, and Nûr Jehân was sent a prisoner to Delhi. Jehângîr at once made her proposals of marriage; but she rejected with abhorrence the hand of the murderer of her husband. An ordinary despot would on such an occasion have employed violence; but the passion of Jehângîr seems to have been extinguished by her repugnance, and he gave up his suit and placed her among the attendants of his mother.

During the space of about four years, Nûr Jehân remained an unnoticed dweller of the harem. She employed her leisure in painting and needlework, in which she excelled, and her works were sold in order to procure her such elegancies as she desired. The fame of these works, it is said, reached the ears of the emperor, and revived his passion. Nûr Jehan was no longer able to resist the temptations of empire; their marriage was celebrated with great pomp, and she received honours such as never had been possessed by a queen in India, her name even being put on the coin of the realm. Her influence was unbounded; her father was made vizîr, her brothers were advanced to high offices. She moderated the caprice and cruelty of the emperor's character; she made him confine his inebriety to the night and to his private apartments; she increased the magnificence, while she diminished the expenses, of the court. In a word, her influence, in the early years of her power, was productive of almost unmixed good. Her father proved one of the best and most upright ministers that India had ever seen, and his son, who succeeded him, trod in his footprints.

In the year following the emperor's marriage (1612), a great plan for reducing the Deckan was formed. Troops were simultaneously to advance from Gûzerât and Berâr and attack Malik Amber. But the celerity of that chief disconcerted the plan. By desultory attacks of light cavalry, and by cutting off its supplies, he so wearied the army of Gûzerât, that it was obliged to commence its retreat, which soon became a flight, and the other army on coming up, finding Amber's troops flushed with victory, thought it prudent to retire. The imperial arms were more successful in Mewâr, under the guidance of the emperor's favourite son Khurrum. He reduced the rana of Oudipûr to submission, and acting on the generous principles of his grandfather Akber, when the rana had performed his homage he raised him in his arms, and seated him at his side with every mark of kindness and respect. All his territory was restored to him, and his son raised to a high rank among the Ômrahs of Jehângîr. This conduct gained Khurrum great reputation, and as he had lately married the daughter of Asof Khân, the brother of Nûr Jehân, he also possessed the powerful support of the empress.

Prince Khusru was still a prisoner, and any

9 She is said, but probably without reason, to have been the inventor of otto of roses.

A. D. 1621-26.

hopes that prince Purvîz might have had were extinguished, when the emperor, on sending Khurrum on a great expedition to the Deckan (1626), gave him the royal title-Shâh Jehân, i. e. King of the World. In this expedition Shâh Jehân had the most complete success. Amber, deserted by his officers and his allies, was obliged to submit, and to restore Ahmednugur and all his other conquests. The Deckan then remained tolerably quiet for about four years, when (1621) Amber took up arms again, and recovered nearly the whole of the country. Shah Jehân was ordered to march against him; but for some unexplained reason, he refused to stir unless his brother Khusru was committed to his custody, and allowed to accompany him. The emperor consented, and Shâh Jehân then set out. Acting with his usual vigour and ability, he brought Amber to action, gave him a defeat, and made him speedily come to terms of accommodation. Meanwhile, the emperor had so severe an attack of asthma, a disease to which he was subject, that his life was deemed to be in imminent danger. Prince Purvîz hastened to court, but was instantly ordered back to his government. Just at this time, too, prince Khusru happened to die suddenly, and it is difficult not to suppose that his death was caused by his brother Shah Jehân, in whose custody he was. Against this, however, it is alleged, that as no other crime stains the life of that prince, we should not be hasty to charge him with one of such magnitude.

At this very time, Shâh Jehân lost the powerful support of the empress. She had married her daughter by her first husband to the emperor's youngest son, Sheriâr, and aware, from the vigorous character of Shâh Jehân, that she never could hope to maintain her influence when he should be on the throne, she resolved to make every effort to alter the succession. Her father, who used to restrain her, was lately dead, and her brother (the fatherin-law of Shah Jehân), who succeeded him, was merely the instrument of her will.

The great object of Nûr Jehân now was to keep the prince at a distance from his father, and as just at this time the Persians had taken Candahâr, the recovery of it was proposed to him as an object worthy of his fame and his talents. He at first assented, but seeing through the designs of the empress and her party, after he had advanced some way he halted, and refused to quit India unless further securities were given him. Orders were then sent to him to send the greater part of his troops to the capital to join prince Sheriâr, to whom the command of the expedition had been transferred; his principal officers also were ordered to leave him, and join prince Sheriâr. The empress, moreover, to be sure of a good general in case of a civil war, summoned to court from his government at Câbul Mohâbut Khân, one of the ablest generals of the time.

Jehangir, on his return from one of his usual visits to Cashmire, fixed his court at Lahore (1622). Messages passed between him and his son, but as there appeared to be no hopes of a reconciliation, Shah Jehân put his troops in motion and advanced toward Delhi. The emperor marched from Lahore; an engagement took place between a part of his forces and of those of the prince, after which the latter retired to Mâlwa, followed by the imperial troops. As some of his generals proved faith

31

less, he found it necessary to continue his retreat into the Deckan. He reached Telingana, after having been deserted by most of his troops, whence he proceeded to the sea-port of Masulipatâm, and thence to Bengal, of which province and of Bahâr he made himself master, and he then sent some troops to endeavour to secure the city of Allahabâd.

Meantime prince Purvîz and Mohâbut Khân, who had pursued him into the Deckan, were advancing to the relief of Allahabâd. Shah Jehân crossed the Ganges to engage them; but the people of the country were opposed to him, they would furnish him neither with provisions nor boats; his Bengal levies deserted, and when he gave battle he was defeated, and forced to fly once more to the Deckan. Here he was joined by Malik Amber; but while he was engaged in some operations against the fort of Burhanpûr, prince Purvîz and Mohâbut Khân reached the Nerbudda. His followers now deserted in greater numbers than ever, and, quite disheartened, he wrote to beg forgiveness of his father. But ere anything could be arranged, extraordinary events occurred in the royal court and camp.

The emperor, after visiting Cashmire for two successive years, resolved to proceed in the third year (1625) to Câbul, where the Roushanîas still gave occupation to his troops. As he was on his way thither, the empress, who secretly hated Mohâbut Khân, caused him to be summoned to court, to answer charges of oppression and embezzlement in Bengal. Having made various excuses to no purpose, he at length set out, attended by a body of 5000 faithful Rajpûts. When he approached the camp, he learned that he would not be admitted into the emperor's presence, and seeing that his ruin was resolved on, he determined to play a bold game, and not to be an unresisting victim.

The imperial camp was now (1626) on the left bank of the Jelûm, which was to be crossed by a bridge of boats. Jehângîr intended to send the army over before him, and then to pass the river at his leisure. Mohâbut waited till the army was over, and only the emperor with his attendants and guards remaining. He then sent forward 2000 of his Rajputs to seize the bridge, and advanced himself with the remainder to the emperor's quarters, which he surrounded. At the head of 200 chosen men he pushed forward to the imperial tent, where he repelled the guards and forced his way in. Jehangir, on awaking, started up and seized his sword. Seeing Mohâbut, he called on him to tell the meaning of such conduct; the latter prostrated himself, and expressed his regret that it should be only thus that he could gain access to the royal presence. Jehângîr checked his indignation, and as Mohâbut observed that it was now his usual time for appearing in public, and requested therefore that he would mount his horse and show himself, he tried, under the pretence of dressing himself, to get into the women's apartments in order to consult Nûr Jehân. But his design was seen through and prevented, and having dressed himself where he was, he mounted one of his own horses. Mohâbut, however, thinking he would be in safer custody on an elephant, prevailed on him to mount one of these animals, on which he placed beside him two armed Rajpûts. In this way he proceeded to the tents of Mohâbut.

Nûr Jehân did not lose her presence of mind on this important occasion. Finding that all access to the emperor was cut off, she put on a disguise, and entering a palankin of the commonest kind proceeded to the bridge. As the orders the soldiers there had received were to allow every one that came to pass over, but none to come from the other side, she met with no obstruction, and reached the royal camp in safety. There she inveighed against her brother and the other chiefs as dastards, who had let their sovereign be made a captive before their eyes; and not confining herself to mere words, she began to make active preparations for attempting his rescue.

In the morning, when all her preparations were complete, she put her troops in motion. At their head appeared the high-spirited Nûr Jehân herself, seated in the howdah of a lofty elephant, with a bow and two quivers full of arrows. As the Rajpûts had burned the bridge, she was forced to attempt to cross at a dangerous ford lower down the stream. But the whole plan miscarried. Owing to the depth of the stream most of the troops had to swim or to wade very deeply; hence their powder was all wetted, and being weighed down by their armour and their saturated garments, they could offer but a feeble resistance to the Rajpûts, who had the advantage of the ground, and who showered arrows, balls, and rockets on them without ceasing. The elephant of Nûr Jehân was the principal object of attack; showers of balls fell round her howdah, one of which wounded the infant daughter of Sheriâr, whom she held in her lap. At length her driver was killed, and her elephant being wounded in the trunk plunged into the deep water, and was carried down the stream. After making many plunges he reached the shore, and her women on coming up found the empress engaged in extracting the arrow, and in binding up the wound of the infant. Seeing that there was now no hope of rescuing her husband by force, she resolved to share his captivity, and trust to fortune and her own resources for his deliverance.

Mohâbut now advanced to Attock, where he made Asof Khân and other leaders prisoners. But his power was still insecure, as it depended on his Rajpûts, who, as Hindoos, were offensive to all the other troops. The emperor, too, schooled by Nûr Jehân, entered on a course of dissimulation in order to deceive him. He affected to rejoice at being freed from his thraldom to Asof Khân, and he even warned him to be on his guard against the plots of Nûr Jehân. By these means he completely blinded Mohâbut, who now thought himself quite secure with respect to the emperor. The object, meantime, of Nûr Jehân was, to get into the army which attended the emperor as many persons as possible who were in her interest. As they now had reached Câbul, it was deemed necessary to increase the royal guard on account of the Afghâns; and as her partisans came and offered their services, many of them were admitted into it. The emperor being now allowed to go hunting on an elephant, but still guarded by Rajpûts, a quarrel one day took place between them and a party of the Ahdîs, as a portion of the royal guards were named, in which many of the latter were slain. Mohâbut, on being applied to for redress, gave an evasive answer. The whole body of the Ahdîs then fell on some of the Rajpûts, killed

several, and drove others to the hills, where they were seized and made slaves by the inhabitants, and Mohâbut himself was obliged to seek refuge in the imperial tent. Next day the ringleaders were punished; but the power of Mohâbut had received a shock from which it could hardly recover.

Nûr Jehân now saw that the time for action was arrived. Her agents collected men at various points, and they came into the camp in parties of two and three, as if seeking for service. When she had them thus at hand, she made Jehangir propose a muster of the troops of all the Jaghirdars; and when she herself, as such, was required to furnish her contingent, she affected great indignation at being thus treated as an ordinary subject. She asserted, however, that it should do her no discredit, and she made the men she had ready join it, as if to make it up to its full complement. When Jehângîr was proceeding to review it, he advised Mohâbut, out of regard to his safety, not to accompany him; and the latter, no longer able to command, was obliged to consent. When Jehângîr reached the centre of the line, the troops closed in on him, and cut off the Rajpût horse who at tended him, and as they were joined by their confederates, the person of the king was now in complete safety. Mohâbut retired to some distance with his troops, and Nûr Jehân, as her brother was in his hands, was obliged to come to terms with him. She stipulated, however, that he should give his services against Shâh Jehân, whom she was resolved to crush.

This prince had advanced from the Deckan as far as Ajmir with only 1000 men. Here one of his principal supporters died, and one half of his men having quitted him, he retired to Sind with the remainder. The state of his health alone prevented him from seeking refuge in Persia, when suddenly the aspect of his affairs began to brighten. He heard of the death of his brother Purvîz, and further learned that Mohâbut, instead of pursuing him, was himself pursued by the troops of the emperor, with whom he had had a rupture. He therefore hastened to the Deckan, and he there was joined by Mohâbut and his troops.

The emperor returned to Lahore, and thence set out on his annual visit to Cashmire. While there he had a severe fit of the asthma, to which he was subject. As his life was considered to be in danger, it was resolved to remove him to Lahore, but he sank under the fatigues of the journey, and expired before he had gone a third of the way (1627).

In the reign of Jehângîr (1616) Sir Thomas Roe came to India, as ambassador from James I. of England to the Mogul court. He remained there for two years, being treated with much attention, and admitted to the emperor's private drinkingparties. It is chiefly from his narrative that we derive our knowledge of the splendour of the court of Delhi under the monarchs of the house of Timûr.

Jehângîr issued an edict against the use of tobacco, which had been lately introduced into the east from America. It will be recollected that his British contemporary also had a strong aversion to that plant.