After some discourse on the history of past days, with which, like every respectable Rajput, I found him perfectly conversant, the Ghanerao chief took his leave with some courteous and friendly expressions. It is after such a conversation that the mind disposed to reflection will do justice to the intelligence of these people: I do not say this with reference to the baron of Ghanerao, but taking them generally. If by history we mean the relation of events in succession, with an account of the leading incidents connecting them, then are all the Rajputs versed in this science; for nothing is more common than to hear them detail their immediate ancestry or that of their prince for many generations, with the events which have marked their societies. It is immaterial whether he derives this knowledge from the chronicle, the chronicler, or both: it not only rescues him from the charge of ignorance, but suggests a comparison between him and those who constitute themselves judges of nationalities by no means unfavourable to the Rajput. =Godwār.=—_October 28._—Marched at daybreak. The Thakur sent a confidential vassal to accompany me through his domain. We could now look around us, as we receded from the Alpine Aravalli, with nothing to obstruct the vision, over the fertile plains of Godwar. We passed near Ghanerao, whose isolated portals, without tower or curtain to connect them, have a most humiliating appearance. It is to Raja Bhim, some twenty years ago, that their chieftains owe this degradation, in order to lessen their ability to recover the province for its ancient master the Rana. It was indeed one of the gems of his crown, as it is the only dazzling one in that of Marwar. While we marched over its rich and beautiful plains, well watered, well wooded, and abounding in fine towns, I entered into conversation with the Rana’s envoy, who joined me on the march. Kishandas has already been mentioned as one of the few men of integrity and wisdom who had been spared to be useful to his country. He was a mine of ancient lore, and his years, his situation, and his character gave force to his sentiments of determined independence. He was as quick as touchwood, which propensity occasionally created a wordy war between me and my friend, who knew my respect for him. “Restore us Godwar,” was his abrupt salutation as he joined me on the march: to which, being a little vexed, as the point could not be agitated by our government, I said in reply, “Why did you [693] let them take it?—where has the Sesodia sword slept this half century?” Adding, “God Almighty never intended that the region on this side the mountains should belong to Mewar;—nature’s own hand has placed the limit between you.” The old envoy’s blood was roused as he exclaimed, “Even on this principle Godwar is ours, for nature has marked our limit by stronger features than mountains. Observe, as you advance, and you will find to the further