“It has often happened after a chief has passed away that he has not been remembered as a good ruler. Great men while living often receive praise for virtues which they do not possess; and it is only after this life is ended that the real truth is told. The names of conquerors are forgotten. But those of virtuous chiefs live for ever.” Then in order to add encouragement, after impressive advice, he proceeds thus--in reference to their disputes among themselves regarding precedence-- “The British Government will honour that chief most who excels in the management of his people, and does most for the improvement of his country. There are chiefs in this Durbar who have acquired a reputation in this way--I may mention the Maharaja Scindia and the Bêgum of Bhopal. The death of the late Nawab Ghour Khan of Jowrah was a cause of grief to me, for I have heard that he was a wise and beneficent ruler. The Raja of Sîtamow in Malwa is now ninety years old, and yet it is said that he manages his country very well. The Raja of Ketra in Jeyepore has been publicly honoured for the wise arrangements he has made in his lands.” His third and last Durbar was at Lucknow, after the controversy (already mentioned) with the Talukdars had been happily settled. They found that the compromise on which he insisted for the protection of their tenants, was quite workable, that it left a suitable margin for the landlords, and that with its acceptance the thorough support of the British Government to their Talukdâri status would be secured. So they in their turn emulated their brethren of other provinces in doing him honour. Mounted on seven hundred elephants in a superb procession, they rode with him into Lucknow past the ruins (carefully preserved) of the hastily formed defences, and of the battered Residency where his brother Henry had been mortally wounded. The city of Lucknow is artistically not so fine as Lahore and Agra, the scenes of the two former Durbars; still he is greeted by a fair spectacle, as the city stands with a long perspective of cupolas, towers and minarets on the bank of the Goomti. The aspect of Lucknow has never been better described than by the greatest man who ever ruled there, his brother Henry, who wrote: “The modern city of Lucknow is both curious and splendid. There is a strange dash of European architecture among its Oriental buildings. Travellers have compared the place to Moscow and Constantinople, and we can easily fancy the resemblance: gilded domes surmounted by the crescent; tall slender pillars and lofty colonnades; houses that look as if they had been transplanted from Regent Street; iron railings and balustrades; cages some containing wild beasts, others filled with strange bright birds; gardens, fountains, and litters, and English barouches.”