the High Priest--and this after we had already provided for the
attendant who had supplied the overshoes and had led us to the point of
vantage! I thought how amusing it would be if a visitor to an English
cathedral--where money usually has to pass, as it is--were surrounded by
the Dean, Archdeacon, Canons and Minor Canons, with outstretched hands,
and had to buy his way to a sight of the altar, according to the status
of each. The spectacle would be as odd to us, as it must be to the
French or Italians--and even perhaps Americans--to see a demand for an
entrance fee on the Canterbury portals.

Were we to continue on the Grand Trunk road for a few miles, first
crossing a noble Mogul bridge, we should come to a little walled city,
Badapur, where a turning due west leads to another Delhi of the past,
Tughlakabad, and on to yet another, the remains of Lal Kot, where the
famous Minar soars to the sky.

One of the most pleasing effects of the New Delhi is the series of
vistas which the lay-out provides. It has been so arranged that many of
the avenues radiating from the central rock on which Government House
and the Secretariat are being set are closed at their distant ends by
historic buildings. Standing on the temporary tower which marks this
centre one is able to see in a few moments all the ruined cities that I
have mentioned. The Kutb Minar is the most important landmark in the far
south, although the eye rests most lovingly on the red and white
comeliness of the tomb of Safdar Jang in the middle distance--which,
with Humayun's Tomb, makes a triangle with the new Government House.
Within that triangle are the Lodi tombs, marking yet another period in
the history of Delhi, the Lodis being the rulers who early in the
fifteenth century were defeated by Babar.