antiquarian museum suggested, and after visiting Hindoo temples, adorned with fascinating carvings and unintelligible inscriptions, and tombs covering the remains of known and unknown monarchs, he hastened back to the modern city, with its wide Boulevard, and made preparations to visit the Himalaya Mountains. He left that interesting city with great regret, for, to the poet, it suggested a very attractive place for fanciful dreams, and peaceful moralizing. Moore incorporated in his poem a Persian inscription, which was shown Mr. Taylor in the palace of Akbar II.: “If there be an Elysium on earth, it is here, it is here.” And it might have been such an Elysium but for the dilapidated, dirty condition of the palace, in which the motto was seen, which did not harmonize with the sentiment, and may have robbed the whole palace of its poetical attractions. CHAPTER XXIII. The Himalaya Mountains.—Returning Southward.—Lucknow and Calcutta.—Foretells the Great Rebellion.—Embarks for China.—Visit to the Mountains of Penang.—The Chinese at Singapore.—Arrival at Hong-Kong.—Joins the Staff of the U. S. Commissioner.—Scenes about Shanghai.—The Nanking Rebellion.—Life in Shanghai.—Enlists in the Navy.—Commodore Perry’s Expedition. From Delhi Mr. Taylor travelled northward through a country well subjugated, which, under English direction, was made fertile and safe for travellers. His way lay toward the sunnier resort of the invalids and wealthy Europeans, which lay far up in the Himalaya Mountains, where the snow never melted and where the hot, miasmatic winds of the plains cannot follow the fugitive. At Roorkee, while lying in his palanquin, he caught his first glimpse of the Himalayas, and felt that crushing sense of awful sublimity which fills the soul of every new spectator. Towers that the arch of heaven seems to rest upon, white and gleaming as the purest pearl, rise one behind the other, until the farthest are lost in the haze of intervening space. Titanic pillars of snow, so grand, so mighty, so expressive of the most gigantic forces known or imagined by man, how can language convey their immensity? It is useless to attempt it. For you may talk, and talk, of mountains and the glorious sunsets that enamel them in roseate tints, yet no one will shed tears or feel a tremor of awe. But he who beholds them for the first time lets the tears unnoticed fall, and trembles as if thrust suddenly into the personal presence of the Almighty. Such a sense of humility, of abject unworthiness, takes possession of the beholder, that the soul labors heavily under the oppressive load, and the body shrinks from a nearer approach. There is nothing so powerful for driving atheism or egotism out of a man as the near view of the Himalayas or Andes or Rocky Mountains. The noblest races of the world have been reared in the wild regions of lofty mountains, and none so tenaciously revere their Maker, or so willingly sacrifice