The succession to the Mogul throne never became regular, since neither by Mongol nor by Moslem custom was any one method prescribed. Nor did the more kindly disposition of the house of Baber ever permit the publication of such a decree as that of Mohammed II for the execution of brothers upon the accession of a sovereign. Accordingly the resources of the empire were apt to be wasted in civil wars between father and son, and between older and younger brothers. Even the sons of Baber engaged in civil war: Kamran, aided by Askari and Hindal, fought against Humayun. Akbar’s brothers were so young that he had no rival at the time of his accession. His two elder sons drank themselves to death; but this did not prevent Selim, who became the emperor Jehangir, from rebelling against his father and hastening the latter’s death. Jehangir’s two sons rebelled against him in turn. Shah-Jehan’s four sons, Dara, Shuja, Murad, and Aurangzeb, fought together until the last encompassed the death of the others, besides keeping his father a prisoner during the last seven years of life. The mournful story need not be carried beyond the fierce civil war which followed the death of Aurangzeb, in which two of his sons were slain. Clearly, the Ottoman method was more practical if less humane. So unstable was the personal situation of the emperor that, if he failed to show his face in public daily, the empire fell into commotion and civil war became imminent. From the uncertainty of the succession the state, at least, derived this benefit, that the fittest of the candidates for power was likely to obtain the throne. Nevertheless, as Dow says, “to be born a prince” of the Mogul Empire was “a misfortune of the worst and most embarrassing kind. He must die by clemency, or wade through the blood of his family to safety and empire.”