in the hearts of the people. Nor to the Muhammadan is the Province less instinct with heart-stirring traditions. To him the North-West Provinces, as they existed in 1853, were identical with his own 'Hindustán.' All the might of the Mughal had been centred in it. The imperial cities of Delhi and Agra were its boast. To their Halls of Audience had flocked suppliants from every Court in India; the rude Turkoman from Central Asian steppes; the polished Persian of Isfahán; the swarthy Nubian from the Nile; the pale Christian from across the further seas. The royal palaces of Agra and Delhi were monuments worthy of the proud dynasty which had erected them. Within the walls of the Delhi fort — a shadow of the glories of his great house, but yet a name to conjure with — lingered the aged Emperor. The Company was a cold abstraction, towards which it was impossible that loyalty could be felt. But to the heart of every Muhammadan in Upper India the despised and pensioned Mughal pleaded powerfully in his obscurity.
The races which swarmed within the Province were little likely to be deaf either to priest or Emperor. In the public offices, in social life, in the ranks of the army, the Bráhman asserted, and, indeed, had been encouraged by the Company in maintaining, his pre-eminence. The Rájput rivalled him in pride, and, in audacity, surpassed him. Restless tribes of predatory type crowded upon the land, at frequent feud amongst themselves, and ever ready for collision
