into the receptive soul the painful lessons to be drawn from the careless self-indulgence of too many of his royal relatives. Whatever the influence, it is clear that he had early learnt to look upon life as a serious business. In 1643, when only twenty-four, he announced his intention of retiring from the world, and actually took up his abode in the wild regions of the Western Gháts (where Dr. Fryer was shown his retreat) and adopted the rigorous system of self-mortification which distinguished the fakír or mendicant friar of Islám.
This extraordinary proceeding, far more bizarre in a youthful Mughal prince than in the elderly, gouty, and disappointed Emperor Charles V, has been set down by some of his critics to Aurangzíb's subtle calculation and hypocrisy. It is insinuated that the pretence of indifference to the seductions of power was designedly adopted with a view to hoodwink his contemporaries as to his real ambition. There is, however, no reasonable ground for the insinuation, which is but one of many instances of the way in which Aurangzíb's biographers have ridden to death their theory of his duplicity. So far from proving of service to him, his choice of a life of devotion only drew down his father's severe wrath. The Prince was punished by the stopping of his pay, the loss of his rank and estates, and his deposition from the governorship of the Deccan. His own family were undoubtedly impressed with his religious character, and his oldest brother Dárá, with the superior air of an
