Two gateways and two mosques stand at a small distance from the Taj-Mehal.  They are built of red sandstone and white marble.  If they stood apart, each would be considered a master-work; as it is, however, they lose in attraction by their proximity to the Taj-Mehal, of which a traveller says, with full justice:  “It is too pure, too sacred, too perfect, to have been constructed by men’s hands—­angels must have brought it from heaven; and one imagines there ought to be a glass shade over it, to protect it from every breath and every wind.”

Although this mausoleum is more than 250 years old, it is as perfect as if it was only just finished.

Many travellers affirm that the Taj-Mehal produces a magical effect when lighted by the moon.  I saw it during a full moonshine, but was so little pleased, that I much regretted, by this sight, having somewhat weakened my former impression of it.  The moon’s light gives a magical effect to old ruins or Gothic buildings, but not to a monument which consists of white brilliant marble.  Moonlight makes the latter appear in indistinct masses, and as if partly covered with snow.  Whoever first promulgated this opinion respecting the Taj-Mehal perhaps visited it in some charming company, so that he thought everything round him was heavenly and supernatural; and others may have found it more convenient, instead of putting it to the test themselves, to repeat the statement of their predecessors.

One of the most interesting excursions of my whole journey was to the ruins of the town of Fattipoor Sikri, eighteen miles from Agra, and six miles in circumference.  We rode thither, and had ordered changes of horses, so as to be able to make the journey in one day.

On our way, we passed at times over extended heaths, on one of which we saw a small herd of antelopes.  The antelope is a kind of deer, but smaller in size.  It is extremely delicate and prettily formed, and is distinguished by narrow dark-brown stripes along the back.  The herd crossed the road before us without much timidity, passing over ditches and bushes, and leaping more than twenty feet at a time, with such graceful movements that they seemed as if dancing through the air.  I was not less delighted by the sight of two wild peacocks.  It afforded me peculiar pleasure to see these animals in a state of freedom, which we Europeans are accustomed to keep as rarities, like exotic plants.

The peacock is here somewhat larger than any I had seen in Europe; the display of colours also, and the general brilliancy of the plumage, struck me as being finer and brighter.

These birds are considered by the Indians almost as sacred as the cow.  They appear to fully understand this kindness, for they are seen, like house-birds, walking about in the villages or quietly resting upon the roofs.  In some districts, the Indians are so prejudiced in their favour, that no European can venture to shoot one of them without exposing himself to the greatest insults.  Only four months since, two English soldiers fell victims to this neglect of Hindostanee customs.  They killed several peacocks; the enraged people fell upon them and ill-used them in such a way that they shortly afterwards died.